I parked down the road to disguise the sound of the SUV's engine or door shutting when I furtively exited the vehicle. I carefully snaked my way to the back of the one-bedroom shack we hardly used anymore. When I peered through the dirty window—fondly remembering childhood trips where my father excessively demonstrated his masculinity—I observed Augie and Gia talking at the kitchen table. Before they made a move to escape, I swung open the door and burst inside.
“Fancy seeing you two here! Since you're clearly not ice-fishing, why don't you tell me what's really going on?” I stepped further into the shack, shut the rickety door, and eagerly awaited answers.
After apologizing to me for all the sneaking around, Augie lit a burner on the stove to boil the teakettle. “I'm sorry, Kellan. But
