“How did you guys get the cabin on such short notice?” Jay asked.
“Turns out they’re going to build a road here starting next week,” Ethan said and sat on the couch next to Chris. “They’ll take down this cabin and others aroundthe area.”
“The hell? No way!”
“We’ll find another cabin,” Chris said as he nibbled on a bagel. “One with better water pressure.”
Anthony chuckled. “And a stove for me to cook. I’m too old for snacks.”
“That sounds like blasphemy, Ant.” Jay looked around him in sadness. He had almost ruined this cabin for all of them the last time they were here, but now he couldn’t imagine a world where they could never come back.
Ethan and Chris sat with their shoulders resting against each other. Jay had seen them like this countless times through the years, as if they drew comfort from each other's physical closeness. He glanced at Anthony, curious to spot any hint of jealousy, but there was none.
“You guys think that anyone might connect us to the deaths of Trevor and Andy?” Ethan asked quietly.
Chris shook his head. “No. Everything in that house was destroyed, and no one would report them missing. I doubt that the police will even identify their bodies, and if they do, Mickey promised to make the case disappear.”
Jay sighed. “I might end up voting for the guy.”
“I’m sure he’s expecting us to hand out flyers.” Chris cleared his throat. “I’ve thought about what I want to do with the Mitchells’ inheritance. The plan was to get rid of it, but I want to go about it differently. Once the two years are over, I’ll give half the money to charity, and therest I’ll split between the four of us.”
Jay shook his head. “That’s your money.”
“And in two years, it will beours. Please don’t fight me on this.”
“You don’t have to decide now,” Ethan said.
“Then it will keep bugging me. I don’t want to think about it again until it’s time to split the money.”
Jay exchanged an uncomfortable look with Ethan and Anthony, but Chris’s stubbornness was unmatched. The three of them nodded their acceptance.
Chris turned to Ethan. “Can I borrow your jacket? I’m a bit cold.”
“Sure.”
Halfway through putting the jacket on, Chris stopped and frowned. “What’s this?” He pulled out something from one of the pockets. It seemed like a stack of photos. His eyes grew wide, the color instantly draining from his face.
“Shit! I forgot I took them. I wanted them as evidence. I’m so sorry.”
Chris moved Ethan’s hand away when he tried to take the photos. “It’s okay, E. I’m sorry you had to see them.” Chris silently flipped through the photos, then slowly began to share the memories they evoked. He didn’t dive too deeply into the details, yet that didn’t make his words any less unsettling. None of them dared to interrupt; they were there to listen and absorb, to share the burden as much as they could.
Once done with the last photo, Chris exhaled and looked up. “I want to burn them.”
They got a pot and matches from the kitchen, then stepped outside to the front of the cabin. Chris crouched down and placed the photos in the pot. He lit a match, and with no further ceremony, set fire to another relic of his past.
Back in the living room, Ethan told Jay, “Maybe you should take my phone and call your brother. He was upset.”
“Stu lives for drama.” But he still took Ethan’s phone and stepped out onto the patio. The air felt sweet enough to lick, the lake wide and peaceful. He sat on one of the chairs and called his brother.
“Ethan?”
“It’s me.”
Stu exhaled. “I’m going to kill you.”
“I’d prefer a backrub.”
“How are you?”
