By midmorning, Jamal drove his car into Callan's family home. The smell of warm coffee and breakfast drifted from the dining room. Callan's parents sat together, plates half full, coffee cups steaming.
"Good morning, Uncle Hunter, Aunty Lila," Jamal greeted as he stepped in.
They both looked up and smiled at him, "Jamal! It's been a long while. How have you been?" Callan's mother said pleasantly.
"I've been well. I can see you've both been well too. You both looked so young when I stepped in, I almost didn't recognize you," Jamal joked and they both laughed.
"Jamal," Callan's father said. "You came to see Callan?"
"Yes," Jamal nodded. "How is he?"
"He's calm now. He's in his room," Callan's father answered.
"Is he really okay?" Jamal asked carefully.
Delilah sighed. "As okay as he can be. But I'll appreciate it if you can get him to step out of the house."
"Alright," Jamal said before heading for Callan's room.
