Page 135 - My FlipBook

T R A I L O F C R U M B S

around the car floor while Rachel pulled a plastic shopping
bag from the trunk.
It hadn’t snowed since the weekend before. Their old
tracks and footprints still marked the driveway and porch.
Greta stepped close to Dylan on the cabin deck, suddenly
chilled. The cabin would be cold.
Matt stumbled past, leaning close to the deck to drop the
cans spilling from his arms onto a cushion of snow. He peeled

back the welcome mat for the key. A plastic baggie sat on the
bare deck boards, something white inside. He picked it up
and felt underneath. No key.
“What the hell is this?” Matt ripped the seal of the baggie
open and pulled a slip of paper from inside. “Did you really
think we wouldn’t find out you had a party?” he read. He swore
and dropped the bag and paper in the snow then turned and

started pacing. Kicked a dead potted plant into the snow.
“How’d they know?”
Matt checked the door and lower windows, which they
all knew was pointless. “And they were all have a nice night!
when I left,” he said. “Unbelievable.”
They stood there looking at each other.
“So,” Rachel said, “should we hang out in the car? The
shed? Turn around and go home?” She ran her fingers through
her hair.

Not home. How could Greta have a reset if they went
home now?
“Maybe we can get into one of these empty cabins,” Matt
said, looking around. “Climb in a window or something.”

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