Emery wondered what their mother would say about the situation they were in. He wondered what their father would say too. He remembered their mother, on her deathbed, telling them to look after each other. He was he to look after Miles when they were leagues apart? How could Miles keep him out of trouble?

He thought back to when they were boys. He was always full of mischief, fun he’d called it then, and Miles was always the sensible one. It wasn’t that he wasn’t capable of thinking sensibly, it was that he would get caught up doing something and continue unless Miles stepped in. Mom would always tell him to listen to his brother and tell Miles that he could relax a little. Unless it was dangerous, it wasn’t so big a deal, she would say.

He glanced over at Miles. It was obvious that his brother was deep in thought. “We’ll be alright, Brother,” he said as their eyes met. “Somehow, it’ll all come out right.”