We’ve got a good spot, I think as I tighten my hold on the gun in my hands. I’m ready.

“Whoever is shooting these guns doesn’t know how to use ’em.” I look over, and Rex laughs, heavy equipment surrounding him like toys on Christmas.

The shots ping past us, hitting nothing but air.

I chuckle as we wait for the firing to end.

I blink quickly, clenching and then unclenching my fists. I’m here. On Lake Powell. I’m here. On Lake Powell …

Pulling out a cigarette from my back pocket, I quickly light it up. Hell isn’t a place. It’s memories—and I’m living in them. The nicotine helps to settle my nerves, but I wish I’d brought some extra pills with me, too. Just to soften the blunt edges. I popped two this morning, but clearly, it’s not enough. Not anymore.

“You’ve really picked up the habit.” Vincent helps himself to a cigarette while he chastises me.

I exhale. “Guess you could say that. Nothing like a smoke and a beer and a boat.”

I light him up.

“Did you contact Veterans Affairs? Make sure you give them our timeline, so they know when we’ll begin hiring. There are always delays, so give them a few months out.”

“Already done.”

On a scream, the girls flip over, and my heart skids to a pause. I’m ready to jump in the water to grab Lauren when she pops up, giggling. My rational mind knows she’s wearing a life vest. But, until she’s back here, next to me, I can’t stop stressing.

Vincent puts out his full cigarette into the cup I’m using as an ashtray and dives headfirst into the water. Eve swims hard, trying to get away from him. Within two strokes, he’s caught up and grabbing her into his arms. The other day, Eve mentioned that it was Vincent who’d taught her to swim.

The water sparkles around Lauren as she does the backstroke toward the boat. I feel relief in my chest when her soft hands grab on to the ladder.

She’s okay.

After a few hard pulls, I put out my cigarette, too.

Randy points north. “The slot canyons are there. We’ll head over now.”

I finish my beer and open another as the girls dry off with fresh towels and scroll through their phones. Lauren mentions something about skirts and dresses. They seem to be shopping.

“Oh, I love these pumps.” She turns excitedly to Eve, handing her the pink crystal-looking cell phone. “Comfortable, too, because the heel isn’t too high and super classic, too. It’ll be perfect.”

What the heck is a pump? Lauren’s got a vocabulary I just don’t understand.

Vincent gets on the phone, yelling to his attorney about rental payments from one of his retail spaces.

The boat pulls over before Randy takes down three blue paddleboards and oars.

She tucks her phone between the folds of her sundress before lifting her hands to the top of her eyes, shielding herself from the sun. “I can’t believe I forgot a hat,” she complains to Eve. “I’m going to age, like, ten years from the sun here.”