The sound of shattering glass and breaking wood eventually ceased. Joshua heard footsteps and looked up. All six feet, five inches of Harold stood in front of him. His thick red locks clung to his forehead in sweaty curls. Tears flowed from his piercing blue eyes. His father’s blood stained his shirt and hands and part of his tearstained face. In his arms, he held his father’s limp body. Blood still oozed from the opening in the back of Richard’s skull. Barbara screamed and fainted in Joshua’s arms. Harold stared at Joshua with a look of deep sadness and pain.
Pointing to the door on his left, Joshua said, “Harold. Please. Put your father in the guest room there. I need to tend to your mother.”
His world was spinning, but Joshua knew he needed to focus. Barbara’s heavy body lay unconscious in his arms.
Harold’s grunts emanated from the bedroom, and the bed squeaked with the weight of Richard’s lifeless body. Joshua gently knelt and eased Barbara to the floor. He fanned her face and stroked her cheek until she woke up.
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