younger brother, Dylan, was usually upstairs, loudly discussing his important new corporate career on the phone.
But that night, nobody made a sound.
Then I noticed the boxes.
Four cardboard boxes sat in the center of the living room.
My winter coats had been carelessly tossed across them, with my drafting case leaning against the side.
I stared for several seconds.
Then I saw my family.
Mom—Patricia—sat rigidly on the sofa.
Dad—Richard—occupied his usual armchair.
My younger sister, Chloe, leaned against the dining-room doorway, scrolling through her phone.
Dylan stood
