Our parents occupied the two rocking chairs we had picked up from a neighbor while Carrie sat on the couch. She was tense and confused.

"Hello, Norman. Just the person we were waiting for." Shit, it was the Dad voice. Not good.

"What's up? Is everything okay?" The thoughts going through my mind as I sat down an appropriate distance from Carrie weren't pleasant.

The silence was uncomfortable, so no, things were not okay.

Mom kept shifting her gaze from me to Carrie and back, sizing us up. Dad stared at a spot over our heads, collecting his thoughts. Carrie sat almost perfectly still, like prey hoping to avoid detection....