He supposed his college degree made him employable—all he had to do was have his prof write a couple of letters and he could probably get in as a teacher at some high school—but being employable in theory was vastly different from feeling capable of settling in anywhere. He’d come so close to breaking everything in his grandparents’ house. Picture him a teacher! He was liable to break some kid’s head the minute he smarted off.

There was nothing that seemed possible.

But, those days at the resort, he found himself missing his family. He hadn’t missed them as much when he was in Pine Rapids—he was surrounded by the evidence of their past existence, and his own—but once he left, he felt dread mounting within him, born of homelessness and vacuity. He realized that if he drowned in the lake, it would be weeks before anyone would think to look for him.

It took him a few days to convince himself to go see them. He told himself it might be better this time.

Driving over the crest of the hill and down into Stone Harbor brought a smile to his face. The bay glistened blue in the sunshine, and the village rose up on the wooded hill, white and spare with its steeples and schoolhouse and white frame houses. Following the highway as it curved along the water’s edge, JJ drove by the big white hotels with their extravagant porches, then through what passed for downtown: Bronson’s ice cream parlor, the village hall, the old general store. On the water side were the yacht club docks, the clubhouse. He craned his neck to try to catch a glimpse of his dad, who spent much of his time there, but he didn’t see him.

The road continued straight, but the water curved away from it, making room for cottages along the shore, which was dense with cedar trees. Just as the hill started to rise again on the way out of town, JJ turned into a driveway on the left. His mom and dad’s place.

He walked in the back door of his parents’ cottage, calling, “Mom? Dad?” No answer. He passed through from back to front, but there was no one home. His leg was stiff and sore from driving; he couldn’t keep from hobbling. He took a quick nip from the flask in his pocket.

He didn’t want to be alone any longer. He stepped out onto the front porch, intending to go to his grandmother’s cottage next door. Surely she would be home.