Ryder Morning light spilled across the wide windows of the room as I stood with my hands buried deep in my pockets, staring out at the green stretch of land below. Melissa and her brother were already running the dirt path that looped around the property, their figures small but clear in the early brightness, while Nike kept pace a short distance behind them, watchful as always. The air coming through the slightly open window carried the clean smell of cut grass and dew, and for a moment the quiet almost felt peaceful. Behind me the soft sound of shifting sheets told me Bruce was still asleep. A few minutes passed before the sheets rustled harder. I heard him sit up, then the slow careful movements of him getting out of bed. When I turned he was standing there in the loose clothes the housekeeper had given him, hair sticking up on one side, eyes cloudy with that same lost look he had been wearing since the drug took hold. “It’s a beautiful morning,” I began, keeping my voice eve
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