"But we've only been here two days!" Sam protested.
"Sorry, Sammy." Dean shrugged. "I'm bummed, too, but what can I say? Ghouls just aren't very good at hiding."
Sam looked at his bed. His new school books lay there. He hadn't even had time to open them yet.
The door opened and John came in. Face expressionless, he looked at Sam, waiting.
Face pale, the teen turned away, fists clenched as he tried to control the disappointment and rage roaring through him.
"Let's get packed up, boys," John said gruffly.
Sam said nothing.
What the hell good would it do?