You've been holed up in your bedroom for three hours. As your stomach growls, you realize you haven't heard your mom in the kitchen. Deciding to check, you step out of your sanctuary.

You make your way downstairs and find her passed out on the couch, empty bottles scattered around her. It’s not unusual, so you don’t ask any questions; Dad is away, as usual.

You head to the kitchen to prepare dinner, leaving two plates in the fridge for your parents and one on the counter for Warren. You eat alone, then wash the dishes.

As you’re heading back upstairs, you hear your mom’s snoring. You walk closer and lean over the couch, resting your chin on your arms while you watch her sleep. Time slips away until you’re jolted back to reality by Warren descending the stairs. You remain still, staring at your numb and troubled mother as he walks by.

"Starving," he mutters.