"Dad?" I asked as I opened my door. My father stood in the doorway. He was 44, he didn't look bad, either. His blonde hair was still full, his green e...es still twinkly. His skin was tanned. Women would always admire him whenever he went out."Hey, sweetie," he said, drawing me into a hug. I thought I felt something hard press against my groin, but I guess it was imagination."Aren't you supposed to be at work?" Yeah, but Matthew was sick so the meeting was cancelled, so I thought I'd come to see. There was no response from their room. Mark leaned against his closed door, and waited. Grace had spilled her worries out to Heather when she had gotten back from her run. She was terrified that Mark would rat them out, and they would be ruined socially, emotionally and anything else. Heather had moved around the counter and rested Grace’s head against her warm chest. She cooed and calmed her down with gentle touches, she told her that she’d make sure he wouldn't find out. Then she. More

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