It was dusk and the late-season crickets were chirping away as they made their way down the path, Helen in the lead. She loved going to the bog at twilight and how sometimes, now that it was getting cooler, like this evening, there was a layer of mist hovering over the water, and Helen was sure she could see it move as if it were taking shape, pulling itself into the form of a woman in a dress. They walked over to the stones of the old foundation and each took a seat. Riley pulled out a joint and lit it, inhaling.

“Is something up with Olive?” Helen asked. “She seemed a little…off when I saw her yesterday. She okay?”

“She’s real worried about her mom,” Riley said. “Has she talked to you about it at all?”

“No. Not a peep.”

“She has this idea that maybe her mom didn’t run off with some guy like everyone says. That maybe something else happened.”

“Do you think that’s a possibility?”

“No…I mean, I don’t know.” She was quiet a second, eyes on the mist over the bog. “Maybe something scared her off.”

“What do you mean?” Helen asked.

“Olive said that just before her mom took off, she heard her parents having a really bad fight down in the kitchen. There was a big crash. Like it got physical.”

“What…you think your brother might have hurt her?”

“I can’t imagine it. He loves her so much. But years ago, when Dustin was drinking all the time, he was a mess. Sometimes he’d get kind of crazy. Never hurt anyone else, just himself, but…”

“Riley, if you think—”

“No,” Riley interrupted. “What I really think is that Lori took off with one of her boyfriends. Maybe Dustin found out she was cheating on him and they fought and that was the last straw for her. She got the hell out and didn’t look back.”

“Poor Olive,” Helen said. “It’s awful that she’s going through this.”

Riley passed her the joint, and they were silent for a minute, smoking, looking out at the bog.

“I still can’t believe she gave me that ax,” Helen mused.

“I love the ax,” Riley said at last. “But I’m not sure keeping it is such a good idea.”

“What? Why?”

“It’s just starting to worry me. You collecting all these things with such morbid histories.”

“You sound just like Nate,” Helen snorted.

“It’s like…you’re opening a door,” Riley said.

“Yes!” Helen said. “That’s exactly the point.”

“But when you open a door, who knows who or what you might be letting in,” Riley said. “Not to mention the fact that you’re really pissing your husband off. And worrying him.”

“Huh?”

“He called me at the shop this morning.”

“Really? What did he say?”