Chapter Forty Six
Ryan ripped open a ketchup packet with his teeth, spraying a streak of red across his knuckles like some back-alley war paint. Chloe picked at a soggy fry, her face pale and stiff. Owen sat hunched in his chair, elbows on knees, chewing through a burger like it had personally wronged him. Evan, God bless him, was trying to swim against the riptide. “So, uh,” Evan said brightly, waving a limp nugget in the air like it was a magic wand, “when I die, I want to be buried in a box of these. Full funeral nugget casket. Dignified as hell.” Ryan barked a laugh — a real one — spitting ketchup onto his napkin. Chloe cracked a smile she didn’t mean. Owen didn’t look up, but the corner of his mouth twitched. Encouraged, Evan kept going: “Think about it. I get to heaven, Saint Peter’s like ‘w
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