"Good morning, baby," she whispered, catching her first view of him in the morning light.

"Morning, love," returned Stephen, leaning down to kiss her deeply. She responded eagerly, pressing into his kiss, as she had always done before. It was always the best start to any day.

As the morning truly began in earnest, he started to hear the sounds of an occupied kitchen, which meant his mother was already up and about. Giving Grace one last kiss before she disappeared into the air around them as per their morning ritual, Stephen looked forward to the day, a week from now, when that petty charade could end, and they needn't disguise their living conditions from anyone.

Padding out into the kitchen, he found his mother already sitting at the kitchen table, a tall cup of coffee in one hand, and the newspaper in the other. As soon as she heard him coming, she dropped the paper, and turned her attention to her eldest son.

"Good morning, dear," she smiled awkwardly, as if there was something big being left unsaid. Stephen picked up on it instantly, the very idea p.r.i.c.kling him inwardly.

"Morning, Mom," he said, and poured himself a cup of coffee to sit down with her. Almost as soon as he neared the table, she bounded up from her spot and wrapped him in a long, motherly hug.

"Mom? Everything okay?" He asked in a m.u.f.fled fas.h.i.+on, still encased tightly against her.

"I'm so sorry, Stephen. So sorry about yesterday," she began, as she let go long enough to look him in the eyes.

"Oh, so you know about him stopping here?" Stephen replied, sullenly.

Theresa nodded. "The b.a.s.t.a.r.d showed up at the hospital after he saw you. He almost had security called on him for making a scene of himself. From what I gathered before his hasty exit, something major had occurred with you. But you were already sleeping by the time I got home last night."