Freddie reacted with unexpected violence, screaming
wordlessly, tears pooling, fists pounding the floor,
It was such a sharp contrast between the quiet little boy of
the past few days, Bolt didn't know what to make of it.
Shocked and a little bit frightened by that reaction, he
retreated mentally from the room.
The mother didn't seemed surprised.
Watching and waiting for the boy to cry himself out.
"Are you done?" She asked, when the boy had
quieted to gasping sobs.
Freddie shuddered, and Bolt's heart ached, before standing
up, hunching his shoulders and nodding tightly at the floor, tears still
falling.
They left and Bolt looked around the hall, the first time he
had been left alone for any length of time.
The hallway was mostly empty, there was a bureau that had a
few letters, junk mail mostly, addressed to Mr Masters.
Bolt felt his curiosity spike, but he couldn't open them
without raising suspicions.
A few pictures. Flowers, nothing important.
It was a very boring hallway.
Bolt slumped down and stared at the ceiling, deciding to
wait.
He didn’t have to wait for long.
Freddie’s mother walked through the door, her handbag
sliding off her shoulder as she leaned her forehead against the door.
Bolt watched, knowing something was wrong but no idea what.
She sobbed, before taking a deep breath, turning around and
picking Bolt up off the side table.
She was crying, silent tears running down her face, little
wisps of hair escaping, her face turning blotchy.
Oh.
She squeezed Bolt as she climbed the stairs. Taking each
step as if carrying a great weight.
Salty tears fell into his fur.
She took a deep breath before entering Freddie’s room, and
she slumped on the bed, lying there, quietly sobbing.
Bolt felt his heart break.
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