It was our mom’s birthday.

“Mom’s birthday,” Levi said, echoing my thought.

The table quieted, like it always did when we acknowledged our parents. I kept my eyes on my empty plate, bracing myself for the inevitable. For everyone to start talking about them.

I hated it when they did that.

“How old would she have been this year?” Logan asked.

“Fifty-four,” Gram said.

“Do you guys remember when Dad threw her a big birthday party?” Asher asked.

“Vaguely,” Evan said.

I didn’t. I’d probably been a baby.

“I just remember bits and pieces of it,” Asher said. “I think Dad put trick candles on her cake.”

“He did,” Gram said with a soft smile. “By the time she realized they were going to keep lighting after she blew them out, she was laughing too hard to try.”

“I remember how much they smiled,” Grace said. “They always seemed so happy.”

“They were,” Gram said. “Their love was big. For each other and for their boys.”

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, hoping they’d change the subject.

“The thing I remember most is her reading to us,” Logan said. “It’s not a clear memory, but it seems like she did that a lot.”

Levi nodded. “I remember that, too. I think she did.”

“On the couch before bed,” Evan said. “And we’d fight over who got to sit next to her. Except Gavin. He sat on her lap.”

“Oh yeah,” Logan said, his mouth twitching with a smile.

I didn’t say anything. Because I didn’t remember any of it.

I didn’t remember them.

When they’d died, Asher had been nine, Evan around eight. The twins had been six. All old enough to form lasting memories of our parents, even if they were only vague ones. Even Grace remembered them. But I’d been four—too young to keep any of those memories.

I knew what they’d looked like, but only because I’d seen pictures. I knew stories about them, but only the things I’d been told. None of it lived in my head. I couldn’t conjure a single image of my mother or my father. Not even one.

And I hated that I was the only one who couldn’t.

Still, I didn’t want to be an asshole about it. So whenever this happened, and everyone seemed to need to talk about them, I just kept my mouth shut until it was over.

Tonight, though, the subject made me fidget. My leg itched inside my cast and my ass hurt from the way I’d been sitting. I shifted in my chair again.

Asher kissed the back of Grace’s hand. Fiona leaned against Evan’s shoulder. Logan glanced at Levi and he nodded, as if Logan had said something out loud—but he hadn’t. Silent acknowledgments of shared grief, and shared comfort.

I didn’t have anything to add and my mood was quickly turning shitty. Which meant it was time for me to go.

“We’ll take care of your plate, Otter,” Gram said.

She was such a mind reader.

“Thanks.” I pushed myself to my feet and hopped to where I’d leaned my crutches against the wall. “I’ll see you guys later.”

“You heading home?” Levi asked.

“Yeah. Eventually.”

“You okay, brocamole?” Logan asked.

“Other than my leg itching, yeah.” I went over to Gram and leaned down to give her a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks for dinner. I’m stuffed.”

“Have a good night, Otter,” she said. “Be careful out there.”

“I’m always careful.”

Logan snorted.

I’d have flipped him off, but there was no way to do that without Gram seeing. “Later.”

I went out to my truck and climbed in. My body thrummed with restlessness. Dissatisfaction. I was no stranger to this feeling, but normally when I got this edgy I was able to do something about it—do something with the excess energy coursing through me.

I’d jump in the river or off a waterfall. Go rock climbing, or ice climbing in the winter. Maybe grab Logan or some friends and see what kind of trouble we could get into in town. Have a few beers, maybe pick up some girls.

None of that was working for me right now, either because I physically couldn’t—stupid broken leg—or because it just didn’t sound like any fun.

I really was in a shitty mood if going into town, getting a few beers, and picking up girls didn’t sound like fun.

My whole body ached with the desire to move. To climb and sweat and balance on the edge of… anything. I was the shark again, swimming too slowly to stay alive.

Drowning.

I couldn’t climb anything right now, but I could still get around—sort of. I drove out to where the old railroad tracks crossed through town. They were long abandoned—no more trains chugged through Tilikum like they had in the old days. Which made it a good place for a flat hike.

It was dark, and there was a chance I might come across a wild animal. Not exactly ideal conditions, but maybe that was why I’d come out here. I needed to do something, and if I couldn’t do any of my usual things, an after dusk walk down the train tracks by myself scratched at least some of that itch.

Gravel crunched as I walked alongside the track, the only noise in the dark stillness. It was getting colder, especially at night, and the chill air tickled my nose.

Movement on the other side of the tracks caught my eye. There was something over there, near the trees. Small, though. It didn’t seem big enough to be a raccoon, but maybe it was a baby. Which wouldn’t exactly be good news. Mama raccoons were vicious when they were protecting their young.

It was possible I knew that from experience.

I got out my phone to use as a flashlight, shining the beam of light into the trees.

A squirrel sat at the base of a tree, its gray tail standing up like a bushy little flagpole. That was weird. I didn’t think squirrels were nocturnal.

It came closer, then stopped on the track. I didn’t know why it would be out after dark, but it probably associated humans with food.

“I don’t have anything, dude.”

It darted ahead, following the track, then stopped and looked back at me.

I felt like I was about to be pranked. Why else would a squirrel be out at night, acting like it wanted me to follow?

Because it was really acting like it wanted me to follow.

Had Fiona trained this one? She’d trained the squirrels out at Evan’s house to go through an obstacle course. That had come in handy when we’d loosed Tilikum’s squirrel population on the Timberbeast Tavern—the Havens’ hangout—after they’d pulled off an admittedly spectacular prank involving goats, peanut butter, and bird seed.

But no one had told me to come down here, so how could they have set up a squirrel prank aimed at me?

Still, this was weird.

But obviously I was going to follow it.

As soon as I started moving again, it ran along the rail, disappearing into the darkness ahead.

“This is fast as I go, buddy.”

When I caught up, he’d gotten off the track and waited about six feet away, on the far side. Careful not to trip over the rail or wood beams, I crossed the tracks.

He darted away and ran up a tree.

Shaking my head, I laughed at myself. A random squirrel was running around in the dark and I’d thought he was leading me somewhere.