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This made Sandy even more furious. Mary wasn’t allowed to get sick, Sandy had written. Mary didn’t get a time out whenever she liked. Mary had to make sure that Mary functioned the way Sandy needed her. Mary needed to be a well-oiled machine. What had Mary been thinking? Now Sandy’s phone was switched off. Mary raced home. She called her boss from the subway station – she had collapsed; the nurse had written up something she could send; sure, she’d be back at work next week. Mary wanted to take the stairs, but found her legs wouldn’t hold. She had to ride the elevator up instead. More shame. She reached her apartment door, and took a deep breath. It was about as bad as she had imagined, but no worse, at least. Food from several delivery services spread out across the floor and all walls. The mirror in the hallway broken into a hundred pieces. The kitchen table toppled over, one leg hanging off at an angle. The last of her clothes sticking out of the toilet. All of Sandy’s clothes. A small round hole appeared in his forehead, a splash of pink, red, and grey on the wall behind him. Lana swung her pistol to the man who had been standing beside him, her expression not changing as the man she had shot crumpled."WHERE'S MY DAD!!" She didn't yell, but there was steel in her quivering voice, uncontrolled rage bubbling just beneath the surface."He's in the basement," the man said, his hands shaking as he raised them slowly. "He's alive, I swear." And Aunt Val," Lana asked, her eyes boring into the man's."In Harvey's room," the guy said, the smell of urine filling the room as he pissed himself.Lana whirled and headed down the hall. Her cry of "SON OF A BITCH" caused even Harvey to blanch and Jake heard Lana's stomping footsteps returning. If the scene in there was anything like the one in here, well he didn't think the other two thugs with Harvey were going to make it out of the room alive."Jake, these fuckers are dead," she said, walking into the room, shaking in.
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