chapter 8

HENRY

Sometime in the middle of the night, Henry woke with a stiff neck and no memory of how he had ended up on the floor. He sat and turned his head from one side to the other. Mount Mansfield glowed in the moonlight and Henry locked eyes with its eyes. His gaze traveled to its forehead, nose, and chin. In his groggy state, the famous face in the mountain looked real.

“Wayne will kick your butt,” he said.

Wayne would tackle the mountain to the ground, rip it from the earth, and fling it into space.

But that wasn’t going to happen.

Wayne was gone. And the mountain was here to stay.

Henry staggered to his feet. He slid his blue jeans off his tired body and chucked them onto the floor. He made his way to the bed and collapsed. Brae lumbered to his feet and lay down next to the bed. Henry reached his hand down and put it on Brae’s belly and felt his muscles vibrate with each breath. But Henry’s own body felt still.

Like a corpse.