Knock. Knock. Pause. Knock. Billy glanced into the kitchen to read the clock over his stove. Rayleen was home early. He scooted Ms. Lafferty the Cat off his lap, and she ran into the bedroom. He opened the door, and stared out into the hall, at no one. But of course it was not no one. With the possible exception of one plywood dance floor he’d overheard, it’s quite rare for your door to be knocked upon by no one. He was just staring at the wrong level, the Rayleen level. He could see, in his peripheral vision, that someone was there. It was just someone lower. Someone closer to the floor. He turned his gaze down to Grace’s ruined face. She was crying, her nose slightly runny, her face streaked with tears. She was wearing a blue dress, one Billy had never seen before. In fact, he had never seen her in a dress of any kind. And this one was brand-new, and fit her perfectly. He reached down and picked her up, and she wrapped her arms and legs around him and cried on his shoulder.
