Cooper tried to steady the pistol with both hands. But somehow, this word had power to overtake him. His breathing was out of control now. He started to pant wildly, like an animal looking for a way out but knowing full well that the teeth of the trap had already killed it. But this trapper only wanted this catch’s secrets.

Peter had watched Cooper without him knowing many times before now, through the gap in the door while he was taking a pee, brushing his teeth, or dozing on the couch with his hand shoved down his undershorts for safekeeping, and hundreds of times in the years before when they were just strangers to each other from across the other side of the lake. But it was something else to watch someone you love outside of your time together. The only thing that should’ve mattered right now was how Cooper knew that word and why he’d kept it secret from him. But it didn’t. Peter stepped out of the ravine and the world forced him to know something for the very first time. That a person you loved so much, and who loved you, was also someone outside of your life together, and that someone had nothing to do with you.

Becky glanced over her shoulder. “Cooper.”

“Don’t say nothin’.”

“Shit, Cooper. What’s he doing here?”

“Don’t say nothin’ about that word.”

But it wasn’t the ranger Becky wanted Cooper to notice. She nudged him. Cooper wiped drool on the back of his hand, the lure of the meat still keen across his lips, and finally noticed Peter standing there. His dark eyes shifted beneath the ropes of his matted hair. Wide. Wild. Spiralling with boundless secrets. But the wildness wasn’t just the adrenaline of being caught out, but of being found to be something else entirely.

“What are you doin’ here?” said Cooper. Sharp. Like they were suddenly strangers. “You shouldn’t be here. This int for you.”

“Cooper, what’s going on? Why do you know what he’s talking about?”

“I said this int for you.”

Peter’s heart trembled. He’d said that twice now. Cooper might have convinced himself he was only protecting him when he said that. But it wasn’t that. What he really meant was that this part of him wasn’t meant for Peter.

“Cooper, don’t talk to me like that.”

Cooper’s dark eyes blinked. But no apology flickered across them. And there was a blackness there Peter had never seen before. A coldness where he couldn’t even see the part of Cooper that belonged to the pair of them inside him any more. Peter inched forward mumbling Cooper’s name, but before he could even try another way in, Cooper turned away.

“Go home, Peter. Go home.”