“Still curled around Noah's pillow, he laid on the bed for several moments hoping whoever was at the door would go away. He was not in the mood to buy Girl Scout cookies, or to have company.He needed to be alone to grieve, and the last thing he wanted was to pretend that everything was all right.The doorbell rang again.Cursing silently to himself, he flung the covers off of him and walked slowly into the living room. Maybe if he took his time, whoever it was would just give up.The doorbell rang ...again, and then again."Who is it?" He managed to croak out as he leaned heavily against the front door.No answer came.Micah shrugged, pulled away from the door and started toward the kitchen. He needed a cup of hot tea in the worst possible way.The doorbell rang again, followed by a soft knock.Micah spun around and stomped to the door, determined to tell whoever it was to go away. He flung open the door and stood several moments in stunned silence.It was his Noah, but he looked different somehow.Standing there with a lopsided smile on his face, he wore tight, faded blue jeans and a dark blue T-shirt that was covered with what looked like a well-loved, brown leather jacket.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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