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keep up the ruse. He walked to the bathroom to splash water on his face and stopped at the closed door. He set his hand against the bloody print on the jamb and lined his ring up with the void left by Ashley’s.
    Earl called up from downstairs. “Did you sleep at all?”
    Michael shook his head, grief-stricken.
    “No sign of him?” Randy asked, loading his gun.
    Michael shrugged. “No, and Rex is missing, too.”
    “That could be a good thing,” Earl said. “Rex will keep him safe. At least today we have daylight.”
    Randy holstered his pistol and unsheathed his knife, thumbing the blade to test its sharpness.
    Michael started down the stairs and Earl held up his hand to stop him. “Maybe you should let Randy and I search a while.” He looked up at the bathroom door. “You should stay here in case he comes home, maybe tend to other things, you know?”
    Michael did know, but burying Ashley meant accepting her death and though he needed that closure, he wasn’t ready to.
    “We’ll bring Adam home.” Earl clapped his hand on Randy’s shoulder and ushered him out the door.
    Michael sighed and considered his options. He couldn’t leave Ashley to rot in the house, no matter how badly the idea of her burial hurt him. He headed to the garage where the cold air grew even colder. A draft fluttered the weathered door seal, vibrating the cracked rubber. He took a shovel down from the wall and headed for the back yard through the side door.
    Leaves rustled across the browning lawn and Michael gazed through the bare branches of the Magnolia tree. The pink and white flowers had been Ashley’s favorite and he couldn’t think of a better final resting place. He stepped on the shovel head and forced the spade into the dirt with his weight. The morning frost made the earth hard to dig and his tears magnified the already chafing windburn on his cheeks.
    He thought of Ashley upstairs in the tub, the blood motionless in her veins.
    Relegating her to the unforgiving cold of a particularly brisk fall felt like neglect. Acceptance was still too many steps away for any of this to feel right. He dug, harder and faster, pouring his frustration into the work. The cold air stiffened his hands and his palms burned as blisters formed where the wooden handle rubbed his soft skin.
    The hole spread through the lawn, inches turning into feet and the cold becoming secondary. Sweat rolled down his back and armpits, soaking through two layers of clothing. He only stopped when the shovel hit an impassible boulder that sent a jarring pain into his elbows and shoulders. The ringing noise of the metal on rock hummed in his ears and he collapsed. A ridge of blisters tore open and blood covered his palms. Moist dirt caked his knees. He dropped the shovel and squeezed his eyes shut.
    Why had any of this happened?
    He secured the gate and never went out at night. He trained Rex as a guard dog and kept a vigilant watch. He’d done everything to keep his family safe, and still, he failed. It all came back to the front door, the one he’d been the last through and was too preoccupied to lock.
    He pulled himself out of the hole and the sidewall caved slightly, filling his boots with dirt.
    “I’m so sorry,” he said, looking up.
    He walked to the house and stood with his hand on the sliding glass door handle.
    Time wasn’t going to change circumstances and he forced himself to go inside. Each step felt like ten, an impossible climb toward a scene that if he lived a hundred years, couldn’t be erased from his memory. He opened the bathroom door and a shower curtain ring crunched beneath his foot. Dead leaves clung to the soles of Ashley’s shoes and clothespins hung from the waistband of her sweatshirt. He stared at the blank expression on her lifeless face. Blood dried around the bullet hole in her forehead. Her once radiant, green eyes had turned white.
    Michael unfastened the remaining rings holding the curtain in place and wrapped the two layers