I dropped the card into the climbing orange flames inside the drum.

Evan stood two feet away, rubbing his knuckles with his thumb while the heat crackled against the rust-spotted metal.

I pulled out a framed photo of Caroline and me standing beside my mother’s Christmas tree as teenagers in matching red sweaters.

The glass let out a short, sharp pop as the wooden frame blackened in the embers.

“We’ve got the school district’s administrative review coming up,” Evan said.

“Frank’s cousin is going to want them to move quickly.”