Mal took two steps forward and stopped. “Why is the table over there?”
Janelle shook with silent laughter, making Walker shake his head.
Mal squinted at the couch. “Is someone there?”
Janelle pressed a button on her phone. From the curtains came a low, distorted whisper: “Maaalll.”
Mal dropped the grocery bag, and limes rolled across the floor. “Okay,” he said slowly. “Very funny.”
The whisper came again, slightly louder.
“Maaalll.”
Mal’s gaze locked onto the figure on the couch. “Cain, honey? Is that you?”
Silence.
He took a cautious step closer.
Janelle waited until he was right in front of the couch. Then she yanked the fishing line. The front door slammed shut behind him.
Mal screamed. Not a dignified shout, but a full-body shriek. At the same time, Janelle hit play on the speaker at full volume. The whisper turned into a cacophony of doom.
Mal spun toward the couch.
The squirrel stared back at him.
There was a long, stunned silence.
“What the fuck?” he said softly, looking around the room.
Walker collapsed onto the floor laughing, and Janelle joined him.
Mal stood there, breathing hard, hand on his chest. “You absolute gremlins.”
“You screamed,” Janelle said, wheezing.
“I did not scream.”
Walker sat up, wiping tears from his eyes. “You hit a pitch only dogs could hear.”
Mal looked down at the scattered groceries. Then, very calmly, he walked to the couch and picked up the squirrel photo.
“You know,” he said, “I was going to refrain from pranking the Wilsons now that Gramps knew about the other half of his family. And you, Walker.” He arched a brow. “Yes, I know who you are. I was going to leave you and Fernando be. You’re Wilson adjacent, but I was going to be kind.”
Walker and Janelle froze. “You were?” Janelle asked carefully.
Mal nodded. “Now, though. It’s on.”
“For me?” Walker asked, pointing at himself.
“Not quite.” Mal slowly tore the squirrel photo in half. “Forbothof you.”
The silence stretched for a moment.
“Mal,” Janelle said, chuckling nervously. “Let’s not do anything we can’t undo.”
Mal smiled slowly. “Oh, don’t worry,” he said, picking up the scattered groceries. “It won’t hurt.” He paused. “Too much.”
