Austin, Texas, 2003.

You were in your kitchen, dancing to music while you cooked breakfast, not a single care in the world. You thought about making waffles, but seeing as Tommy preferred pancakes, you didn’t see the point.

Speaking of Tommy, you realized in that moment that he hadn’t come home last night. You didn’t think much of it, but it wouldn’t hurt to call him. You took out your phone and saw 3 missed calls… you recognized that number anywhere. The jailhouse.

“DAMNIT, Tommy!” You grabbed your keys and sprinted out the door.