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The article.
Former Delta Special Forces operators.
Until today, they were probably just words on a screen.
“We do.”
Sage opens the refrigerator.
Then freezes.
I know that reaction now.
Food.
Too much of it.
More than she is used to seeing.
“Take whatever you want.”
She closes the door.
“I'm not hungry.”
Lie.
Arthur knows it too.
He walks toward the pantry.
“I am.”
He starts pulling things out.
Bread.
Peanut butter.
Chips.
Then he looks at Sage.
“Turkey?”
She nods.
“Cheese?”
Another nod.
“Mustard?”
She makes a face.
“Absolutely not.”
Arthur looks at me.
