“That’s where Jason’s room was.” I chuckled a little. “I always told that boy he’d have something growing in that room if he didn’t wash his underpants. Looks like I was right.” I stepped out into the clearing and took a better look around. I didn’t see or hear anything dangerous, and the birds were still chirping in the trees, so I figured I was probably okay. The whole place looked just like it did all those years ago, the day Pop killed Brittany in front of my face. The day I thought I’d killed him right back. Britt’s red tennis shoe was still lying on the ground between the house and the barn, a faded red canvas tribute to the woman I thought I might spend the rest of my life with.
As I got close to the house, I saw something fluttering on the front door. It was a scrap of black fabri
