His mother had died two years earlier.

Cancer.

After that, silence seemed medicinal.

Dunmore had mountains.

Cold streams.

One high school.

A main street where people still left hardware-store purchases on the sidewalk while they went next door for coffee.

I thought it was exactly what Cameron needed.

We had been there five weeks.

“Does your side still hurt?”

He stiffened.

“No.”

“You were pacing last night.”

“I was looking for my sketchbook.”