“What are you doing?” he asks, heading for the coffee maker. “Making us breakfast. You want two eggs or three?” “I already ate.” I peer around at the spotless kitchen. “When?” “I’ve been up since five,” he replies. “In truth, I never really slept.” I wiggle the eggs a little with the spatula, unsticking them from the bottom of the pan. “More nightmares?” He just shrugs, clicking on the coffee maker. “How’s our girl doing?” He rustles around in the cabinet above the coffee maker. “She says her leg is hurting her more today than yesterday. Is that normal?”
