Chapter Eighteen

Oscar could have easily expected anything else from Bo when he had arrived at the apartment.

His first thought after the call was of a break in, because of Lydia’s mention of glass on the floor and a knocked over shelf. The second thing he considered was an incident involving some form of PTSD episode, that something had reminded him of his accident and he was spiraling.

Oscar had not expected a meltdown of such magnitude.

Both Oscar and Bo had spoken only a few times about some of Bo’s previous meltdowns.

Moments where he did not speak for days, and where he could not leave his bed at any point. Times when thinking became too much, and his only solace came in the form of a repeated song on a record player.

Oscar had yet to see a moment like that, and the conversation had stemmed solely from the fact that this was almost surely something that would happen.


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