WRITER'S POV

Jackson heard the sharp crash of a bottle smashing against something from outside the front door. Panic surged through him. Without hesitation, he kicked the door open and rushed inside.

What he saw stopped him cold. It wasn’t what he expected at all.

He had feared someone had broken into his home and was attacking Vera or his son. But no, Vera had thrown a bottle of John Barleycorn’s brandy against the wall. Shards of glass and the strong scent of alcohol filled the room.

She was drunk. Laughing wildly, she twirled in unsteady circles, clearly intoxicated.

The noise must have woken Tim. He came downstairs rubbing his...