Chapter 30

Marie’s POV

Dean got Frank home sometime after sunrise. I heard the car in the driveway from my window, the engine dying out with a rough sputter, heard Mom's voice pitch up sharp in the kitchen a few minutes later — what happened, where was he, is he okay — and by the time I made it downstairs the kitchen light was blinding, spilling across the linoleum, and Frank was already being walked up to bed, Dean's arm under his, Mom trailing behind with her hands pressed to her mouth.

I stayed on the bottom step, out of the way, arms crossed, until they'd gotten him up the stairs.

"What happened?"

"Nothing. He's fine." Dean didn't look at me when he said it. "Just had too much to drink. I'll explain later."

He didn't explain later. He barely said ten words to anyone the rest of the morning, moving through the house like something wound too tight, jaw set, eyes somewhere else entirel