The doorbell rang, and like always, I went to answer it, knowing exactly who would be on the other side. Sure enough, there was Matt, standing on the porch with a six-pack of beers dangling from one hand, a casual grin on his face—just like Cora had told him to do.
“Hey, man,” he said with a nod, his voice relaxed, as if this was just any other Friday night hangout.
“Hey,” I replied, giving him the usual handshake-hug that we always did—a firm clasp, a pat on the back, and the unspoken familiarity of half a decade of friendship. “Come on in.”
He stepped inside without hesitation, already knowing the layout of the house like it was his own. In a way, it was. Cora had gone to pick up Mike from the airport, which left me with the dubious honor of playing host. She had texted the plan out l
