“Spud was unshaven, wearing the same clothes as the night before, and slumped over the little conference table—fast asleep.
“Rise and shine, Spuddy-boy.” It had been a rough night with the Kid, and I had no patience.
Spud jerked erect, startled to find that his bedroom had been transformed into a ten-by-ten gray box.
“You need a minute? Want to get yourself some coffee or something?” I tried to put as much sarcasm into my voice as possible. The Kid had been up twice with night terrors—aptly named events that I was assured were “perfectly normal” and which had left me with a sleepless adrenaline hangover and a very short fuse.
“Whoa. Sorry. I mean, no, I’m fine.” He was barely registering my presence, still shaking his head and blinking his eyes.
“Big night?” I drew it out.
He finally heard the edge in my voice.
“Wait.
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