Grant’s new place was between Janey’s and their parents’ house but required a slight detour down Shore Point Road. The two-story saltbox sat at the end of a crushed-shell driveway that crunched beneath Adam’s feet. With no cars in the driveway, it was hard to tell if anyone was home, but Adam knocked on the door anyway. When no one answered, Adam tried the door and found it unlocked. He ducked his head inside. “Hey, Grant! Are you home?”

Still no answer.

Figuring to see his second-oldest brother at dinner, Adam pulled the door closed and headed back to the road.

“Adam?”

Halfway down the driveway, Adam turned to find Grant standing on the front porch. Even from a distance, Adam could see that his brother looked like hell. His hair was standing on end, he hadn’t shaved in days, and, most alarming of all, his blue eyes seemed sunken into the face his brothers had always teasingly called pretty-boy handsome.

Filled with trepidation, Adam returned to the house and dropped his backpack at the foot of the stairs.

“What’re you doing here?” Grant asked, scrubbing a hand over his sleepy-looking face. It was after one o’clock, and he’d still been sleeping?

“This,” Adam said as he took the stairs and hugged his brother. “It’s really good to see you.”

“Ah, yeah, you, too,” Grant said as he made a halfhearted effort to return Adam’s hug.

Adam was strangely unable to let go. “You guys scared the shit out of us.”

“We’re okay.” Grant hugged him tighter for a moment and then released him. “Come on in.”

Despite what Grant said, Adam could see that his brother was not okay. He looked anything but okay. “Where’s Stephanie?”

“At the restaurant, I guess. She was gone when I woke up.”

If Adam was guessing correctly, Grant had woken up about two minutes ago. “Nice place.” Adam took a look around the cozy living room that flowed into a decent-sized kitchen. Boxes were scattered about, some open and others taped closed.

“Thanks. We’re still getting unpacked.” He opened a cabinet and pulled out a can of coffee, dropping a bag of filters onto the floor, which he bent to retrieve. “Want some coffee?”

“No, thanks. I had the daily allotment hours ago.”

“Hmm, is that right? What time is it?”

“After one.”

Grant seemed genuinely surprised to hear that. “Really? Wow, that’s weird.”

“It’s not like you to sleep the day away,” Adam said tentatively.

Grant shrugged as he scooped coffee, dumped in water and turned on the coffeemaker. “Sleep has been hard to come by the past few days. I’m still trying to catch up.”

“It must’ve been pretty scary. The accident…”

“Yeah.”

The one-word answer was alarming to Adam, who knew how much his screenwriter brother loved to tell a good story. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”