Nicole. Sam’s hand on Nicole’s shoulder. Nicole’s fountain of blond hair down her back. Nicole’s tanned legs under her tiny little denim skirt. Nicole’s lips on Sam’s cheek. I can’t stop this relentless march of thoughts as I unlock my front door. The house is quiet, my parents already asleep. I stumble through the pitch-black downstairs and notice that the little lamp on the hall table, usually burning bright all night, is turned off. Dropping my keys next to the lamp, I flick it on before I trudge upstairs. Sam . . . Nicole . . . Sam . . . I pass Mom and Dad’s room, and all thoughts of Sam and Nicole vanish. The door is wide open, the room a dark cavern. “Mom?” I call as I step inside. Nothing. I snap on the overhead light, blinking into the glaring brightness. The room is empty, the bed neatly made and layered with designer pillows. Everything is in its place. Everything except my parents. My pulse picks up as I walk down the silent hall to the guest room. Empty.
