The kitchen window
“This is going to be good for us,” Ben murmured to himself as he stacked plates in the kitchen cupboard. He glanced out the window, expecting to see Cody kicking his soccer ball. But the yard was empty, the ball resting motionless on the grass. Frowning, Ben stepped away from the counter and moved toward the back door. “Cody?” he called out, his voice calm but tinged with unease. There was no answer.
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