Peter Hughes comes home from Korea expecting the usual small-town welcome: pine needles, Mrs. Gable's cinnamon rolls, Dad's voice, his sister Sarah's laugh.Havenwood looks the same. Same oaks. Same lawns. Same storefronts.Nobody is in them.Cars sit with doors hanging open. A red bike lies on a perfect lawn, wheel still turning. A cereal bowl sits mid-bite, milk still white. Sarah's easel isn't holding the lighthouse she used to paint. It's holding a black geometric object that makes your eyes want to slide off it, and three words in her handwriting
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