Then There Were None

From p. 1:

“Hey, Pop. One hour to blast-off!” Jasper Malone called to his father. “Think we should open that back door? Circulate the air better?”

With a razor knife he carefully cut the cardboard cases of beer, then loaded bottles and cans into coolers crowded between sinks and keg taps behind one of three thirty-foot long bars. He and Melissa Andrews, Mack’s girlfriend, were helping waitresses and bartenders put the final touches on the interior of the nightclub.

From p. 4:

Jazz remembered the crowded development of tiny houses and long, dusty roads where he grew up. Squeezed into a four room, white-shingled house, with faded brown trim and palm trees in the front yard, Mack and Maggie Malone argued. Countless episodes from as far back as he could remember.

Waking up in the dark of night scared to death, while the shouts of his mother and father echoed off the paper-thin walls.

“What about us? Me and Jazz?” she would scream. “And food? And clothes? How are we gonna pay for the baby when it comes?”