Jessa

By the time Jackson came home from practice, the sky outside had already turned dusky gray, the kind of light that made everything in our house feel smaller and heavier.

I was curled up on the couch, half-watching a reality show I couldn’t even pretend to care about. The pizza I ordered sat on the counter, growing cold in its box.

When the front door opened, I didn’t even look up. “Hey,” I said quietly.

Jackson didn’t answer right away. I heard the door shut, his ...