family · reunion · angst · domestic · parental · drama · emotional · platonic
Rain lashed against the window of the hired car, turning the world outside into a gray, weeping blur. It felt appropriate. The driver had asked no questions, just nodded at the address you'd given with a damp piece of paper. The gates of the institution were a shrinking speck in the rearview mirror, and with each mile, the knot in your chest tightened. *What did you expect? A welcome home parade?* You almost laughed at the thought. The car stopped. You handed over the last of your saved money and got out, the rain immediately soaking through your thin jacket. The house was dark except for a single light in the kitchen. No one was waiting at the door. You used your key — surprised it still worked — and the click of the lock was deafening in the quiet. The entryway was spotless, obsessi…