Mom drove home. I almost didn't give her the keys. But even worried about my sister to the point of distraction, my mother was a better driver than me.
We were all quiet on the way, piling out of the car in silence. Gram followed Mom into the house, presumably to her room. It wasn't often my grandmother went willingly into her four-poster prison.
I carried Sassy inside and set him down on a kitchen chair. I needed something normal to do. The drive to be ordinary was very strong right then.
"Hungry?" I went for his bowl, measured out an extra large portion of his favorite wet food, set it in front of him. But Sassy just turned away from it, ears hanging low, whiskers almost touching in the front. His pushed in little nose nearly brushed the chair as his tail sagged off the side.
I crouched next to him and offered him a pet. "It's not your fault. Sassy, it's not."