The taxi dropped Caelus off two blocks from his house. He paid the driver and walked the rest of the way.
The house looked exactly the same. It had a brick front, three steps leading up, and a screen door that never closed properly. His old key still fit perfectly into the lock.
He pushed the door open.
The television was on in the living room. A cooking show played with the volume turned up loud. His mom sat on the sofa with a mug in her hands. She wore the same familiar robe and sat in the exact same spot on the left cushion, which sank lower than the rest.
His dad sat in the chair beside her. He had the newspaper open, and his familiar square glasses were sliding down his nose.
Caelus stood in the doorway and simply looked at them. His chest tightened in a way he was not ready for.
"Mom. Dad." He crossed the room quickly.
His mom turned around. "Caelus?" She set her mug down. "What are you doing here?"
"Are you okay?" his dad asked, lowering the newspaper.
