I don't remember getting to the front of the house.
One moment, I was watching the family pretend everything was normal, pretending Briana and Calvin's wedding announcement isn't the loudest alarm bell they've heard all day, and the next, I was pushing through the hallway like something was physically dragging me forward. Desmond's family is on my heels, their footsteps a steady echo behind mine. I'm way ahead of them, running faster than my feet can carry me.
I soon reach the stairs and my eyes land on him, slumped near the stairs, one of the staff trying to lift him gently, murmuring something about him being too hot and not responding properly. His head lolls slightly to the side, skin pale, and lips parted—the most helpless state I've ever seen Desmond in; the same healthy man who lifts me off the floor as if I'm nothing whenever I argue pointlessly with him for attention.
