I looked around the room. Empty bottles lined the windowsill. A plate with congealed cheese sat on the coffee table. There was a smear of something red on the wall by the thermostat. I fought the urge to gag.
Jason stood, pulling on his jacket. “I’m sorry for your loss,” he said quietly. “We didn’t know you were coming home today.” Mike lifted his hands like he wanted to help, then thought better of it. “Yeah, uh, condolences,” he added. “We’ll, uh, get out of your hair.”
“Please do,” I said.
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