Sister, Sister
His eyes were bloodshot, his face marred with deep lines of fatigue.
"Dad," I said in a yawn, "what's wrong?"
"Do you know where your sister when to?" He asked me, staring pointedly at me.
His words did not make sense to. Gibberish floating around, bumping against themselves. Until I arrange them, absorb them. "She is in her room." Is that not where she should be at night?
"She is not there," Dad said, frowning like I should know that, "did she not tell you where she went?"
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