Packing his bag was a surreal sensation for Abe. He’d been caring for his father for five years now, and to be leaving so indefinitely was disconcerting. Of course, Ava had finished packing almost immediately. She was probably waiting on the stoop, still irritated at Charlie for the meager information he’d offered. He seemed to think if he told her everything, she might not come back--and Abe had to admit he was probably right.
Still, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt at how much they were really withholding. Like this ‘favor.’ Charlie had only just told him about it, and the notion sickened and thrilled Abe all at once. If Ava found out, she’d almost certainly abandon them.
Which, Abe reluctantly agreed with his father, was something they simply couldn’t afford.
He tightened his jaw as he threw an extra sweater into his bag. Then he grabbed one more bottle of vicodin for his med kit. He could at least try to keep her alive until then.