His Unwanted Presence

bed had been lumpy and unfamiliar, but the sleep I got was deeper than any

sat across from Ms. Davis, a sharp woman

looking at my cast. "She th

ng up a copy means nothing. We' ll have her served offici

I said. "

ack to the house. I couldn' t. I drove to a small park downtown and sat on a

hand, I started to sketch. A gnarled old tree, the laughter lines on an old woman' s face, a child chasing pigeons. The pencil felt awkward, but right. It felt like

t from Olivia. `Where are you? T

the house, the quiet joy I' d felt alr

ew something was wrong. The house was too

e room in the attic that had become a gl

o carefully, were slashed. My portfolios, filled with years of my life' s work, were ripped to shr

on, their hands and clothes stained with paint. Th

sight of my ruined work didn' t make me angry. It was a de

id, his chin jutted out. "Y

said, gesturing to the w

g a shredded piece of charcoal sketch. "Mom says

t influenced by her; they were her weapons. I felt a strange numbness creep over me, a protective s

. I couldn' t look at it,

ttic stairs, Max said, "We w

e. My balance was already off because of my cast. My foot slipped on the top s

hud. Pain exploded behind my eyes, bright and blinding. The last thing I saw was Olivia, standin

ne of ac

usted as she looked past me to the mess in

world w