>The strange feeling from this morning still lingers. Still twitches the feathers on my wings. My instinct tells me something's deathly wrong. World's too quiet. A stillness.
>I finish the small cleaning duties I'd set aside, dusted, polished, vacuumed. Nothing serious just housekeeping. Something to keep the hands from idleness.
>Still can't shake the sense of doom. I check the clock and notice it's just a hair before nine-thirty. Oh. This is stressing me out more than I'd thought.
>I start to threaten to text Rip, to check in with the kids or even just get out of the house. I huff and focus. Relax, Sam. Some TV will kill the time. I move into the living room and settle in, remote out and TV on. Some daytime television will numb this.
>I flip through the channels, searching for something to catch my interest. A deeper sense of unrest takes me. I focus on it. If it's going to refuse to leave me then I can at least find out why.
>Something's missing this morning. Rip got his morning kiss, Naser got a goodbye. Luc-
>Where's Lucy? I heard her come in late last night, sneaking in without a fight. She does that when she's at odds with her father. She must be in her room.
>I settle the remote down and head on up. A knock on her door has no response. Slowly I creak the door open. Bed's made. Room's tidied. She's not here. But I heard her come in last night.
>Did she leave again? I sigh and head back downstairs. Probably with that boy again. Must have just run out of clean clothes or something. Maybe I should leave a n-
>I stare at the TV from across the room. Red ticker-tape across the bottom of the screen. I recognize that silhouette. Volcano High.
>The worry inside now screeches. No.
>I move over and look on in horror. I read the words slowly and carefully. They break me.
>"Fatal shooting at Volcano High. Several dead, dozens wounded."
cont.