The sight inside made him pause.
A little boy lay curled on the bed, his thin arms wrapped tightly around his legs, his body turned toward the dark window as if he expected something to appear on the other side of the glass. His head was smooth and pale under the dim light, and the blanket around him looked too big, swallowing him in a way that made him seem even smaller.
Across the room, his mother sat slumped against the wall, fast asleep in an uncomfortable position that suggested she hadn’t meant to fall asleep at all. His father sat beside the bed, still wearing his work boots, his body leaning forward awkwardly, one arm hanging loosely as if exhaustion had pulled him down mid-thought.
Marcus stepped inside quietly.
“You alright there, kid?” he asked softly.
