Kaitlyn- Police Precinct

"At any point did Mr. Lenivy go off by himself?"

"No. He was with me most of the night. Or with the others. He did go with Ryan to the radio hut. Besides that, he was never alone."

"The fingerprints on the gun that killed Emma Mountebank match yours and Dylans. If you're covering for him..."

"I'm not. We were all handling that gun that night. How could he have shot Emma with one hand? I thought it was a bear. "

"What about Caleb Hackett?"

"I've already told you. Caleb was attacking us. So I shot him. It was self defense. And I'd do again if I had to."

If Caleb died in the freezer: "So you locked him in the freezer and forgot about him."

"Yeah. I was out looking for the others."

They stepped out of the room for a moment.

"Alright, Miss Ka. You're free to go." The cop didn't look too happy, his arms crossed like someone pissed in his cheerios.

"Really? Just like that?"

"We'll keep in contact. Someone up there must really like you Miss Ka or you have some really good connections."

Dylan -Police Precinct

"This was recovered from Miss Mountebank's phone." They show him a blurry photo of an unidentifiable figure but it is humanoid. Any one else who saw those things first hand would be able to identity it from anywhere. "Any idea what you think it is?"

"What do you think it is?"

"We're not playing games, son. We just want to understand what happened."

"You want proof there's pictures right there on the phone. We agreed to take pictures in case you wouldn't believe us."

"A blurry image doesn't necessarily back up your claims. Did she bully you at all?"

"Emma? No. She gave me some advice actually."

"Oh?"

"Just some relationship advice. That I should go for it with Ryan. She knows I have a thing for him."

"And did you? Go for it."

"Not really. We did play a game of truth and dare, it was my idea. When it was Emma's turn she made Ryan choose between kissing me or Kaitlyn. I'm sure she had the whole thing planned."

"And did Ryan choose you?"

"No. He chose Kaitlyn..." He trailed off. He wasn't going to say anymore. How disappointed he had felt because they would use that against him. He could tell that they were already thinking it.

"Wait. You think I did all of this? Over a stupid game of truth or dare?"

"Tensions run high during a game like that. Add underage drinking and hormones in the mix, well, things can become a bit heated. Miss Ka told us Miss Blyg got upset and walked off. Mr. Furillo went after her."

"Yes. That's when they got attacked in the woods. Ryan and I helped him back to the fire-pit"

"And that's how you got his blood on you. "

"Yes. "

"What about Abigail? Her blood was found on you as well."

"After he was bit, Nick wasn't acting like himself."

"How so?"

"He was acting really aggressive towards Abi. He threw her across the room ...or pushed her. I saw what happened to her...I saw that thing tear her apart."

"It...you mean Nick?"

"No. It was something else. I know how it sounds." Crap. He wasn't explaining it right. How was he supposed to without sounding completely insane?

The other cop stepped forward, playing good cop. "I can see how it's deeply affected you. Were you close to Abigail?"

A lump stuck in his throat. He tried to swallow it."We were... "

"Were you angry at Nick? For hurting Abi. No one would blame you. It would be understandable..." "

"I guess I still am. But it wasn't really him. Like I said he wasn't acting like himself."

"Were you angry enough to hurt him? "Asked bad cop. They were both bad. He finally got what they were implicating.

"What? No! I would never hurt Nick. I wouldn't hurt anybody. Can you at least tell me if Ryan is ok? The last time I saw him, he went off with that Laura girl."

"Did you follow them?"

"No. I went to the scrapyard with Kaitlyn."

"When Ryan went off with Laura, how did that make you feel? Jealous?"

"I thought he was being selfish. We were in danger and he went off with a complete stranger."

"How'd you take Mr Ezrahler's rejection? Were you upset that Emma dared you to kiss him? That he kissed Kaitlyn instead?"

"Not particularly. No."

"Did you get along with everyone?"

"Does everyone really ever?"

"What about Jacob Custos?"

"So, what about Jacob?"

"He used to bully you back when you were both campers."

"That happened a long time ago. I doubt he even remembered who I was. He's a dick, ok? But he didn't deserve what happened to him. None of us did."

"What did happen to Jacob?"

"I don't know. I hadn't seen him since he went to the island looking for Emma. What does that have to do with anything? We were attacked by something. I've been interrogated for days and I'm sure had my rights violated and no one can tell me where the fuck the others are or what happened to them."

"We'll get to that. You said you were attacked by werewolves."

"I was delirious, from you know SHOCK, from missing a hand and an infection. And not the fun kind. We were attacked by something and Ryan's ghost stories didn't help, when you're stranded in the middle of nowhere in the woods, it sort of plays tricks on you." Crap. His mouth no doubt just dug himself deeper. He should have swallowed his pride and allowed his dad to get a lawyer.

"Like seeing things and hearing voices."

Maybe that part he did imagine. Once on the phone in Mr H's office, then in the lodge. But Laura and Ryan had heard that same voice too.

The Hag of Hackett's Quarry.

If werewolves were real, ghosts wouldn't be too far of a leap, he supposed. If the others hadn't made it, would they be ghosts too? Or maybe they were watching him from some afterlife, judging him. Or stuck between life and death in some purgatory.

Ryan, I hope you don't haunt my ass. If in the unfortunate circumstance you didn't make it. Of course he was joking. And couldn't believe that Ryan could be dead. There was no way.

"We know some sort of animal attacked you and your friends..."

"It wasn't just some fucking animal. It's right there on the phone. How much more do you need? It bit my hand. Like I told you."

"So, you cut it off."

"Because it was infected. By whatever bit me."

They thought maybe he was nuts.

" Maybe whatever you think you were seeing, do you think that maybe it was all in your head? You're at that age when it starts. Hallucinations, hearing voices."

"You think I'm crazy."

"No. I didn't say that."

It felt like he was going nuts. They wouldn't let him see or talk to Kaitlyn. He had only once when they had first brought them in. Days had blurred into each other. He had begun to think that he had imagined it.

Then, he'd remembered his missing hand. They were kind enough to let him get some physical therapy. It eased the phantom and psychical pains, just a bit. But it was the pure mental torture of not knowing what had happened to the others, that was the worst.

That's what they wanted. Wanted him to break. They wanted him to believe it, to give credence to their 'theory' to make it fit the evidence, their 'narrative' a 'better' explanation. An easier, accepted explanation. Some bullied kid loses it and kills fellow camp counselors is more interesting than unexplained deaths by possible bear attack.

"Maybe you don't remember killing them." Cop gaslighting 101. He wasn't going to fall for it.

"I didn't kill anyone. " Wait. They had said them. A few of them were at least dead right? "Can you at least tell me where Ryan is. "

Bad cop 1 took out an envelope. He knew what they were from watching way too many crime shows.

The photo's of the dead counselors. The cop displayed them one by one, saying their names. Each time he prayed, please don't be Ryan, please. Don't be Ryan.

"Emma Mountebank."

Emma's body, bloody behind the bushes.

His heart sank. Oh, no. Emma. The werewolf in the van had been Emma. If they hadn't had shot it, it could have killed him or Kaitlyn but it didn't make him feel any less guilty. If only they had just scared her off with regular bullets, she'd still be alive.

"Jacob Custos."

Jacob's, crushed by the rocks in the stream, missing a head.

"Abigail Blyg."

He had to look away from Abi's. Also missing a head. But hers had been so maliciously brutal. She had been thrown across the room like a rag doll, her head ripped off. He didn't want a repeat of himself ending up on the floor, vomiting his guts out, struggling to get air in his lungs.

"Nick Furcillo."

Nick. Splayed out in a cage, red light basked over him. That one wasn't so bad. The red light hid the blood. Nick looked like he was sleeping, like he was sprawled out in his bunk. He thought of Nick's snoring.

"Caleb Hackett...shot."

If Caleb died in the freezer.

"Caleb Hackett..froze to death in the freezer..."

"Yeah, that...that tracks."

"Chris Hackett, also shot."

Oh, no Ryan. Here he was dreading how the cops would treat him. If this was privilege, he could only imagine how they were treating Ryan. They'd pin that one on him for sure just for being black. If it had been Ryan that pulled the trigger.

"Kaylee Hackett, found deceased in the swimming pool, also shot. Constance, Jedidiah, Chris Hackett's parents and his brother Bobby were mauled to death. Gives credibility to your story that you were being attacked by an animal. It still doesn't explain the others."

They were interrupted.

A woman, with black hair and a serious expression stormed into the room. "I'll have you stop right there, detectives. Olivia Ka " She looked like a much older and much taller Kaitlyn.

"I'm Mr Lenivy's lawyer. As of now, you don't have permission to ask him any further questions. This interview is over."

Kaitlyn entered the room. She had slipped in quietly as the door began to close behind her sister.

"Dylan!" But they wouldn't let her go over to him. They could only look at each other.

I'm sorry. She mouthed.

"Kaitlyn." Who's alive? Tell me who else is alive. Is Ryan... She saw her swallow. She opened her mouth to say something before she was escorted out of the room.

He went over with his new lawyer the things he's already said.

"Well, they will try but they can't use it against you, without any actual evidence. Which does points to an animal attack. But we're going to say it was a bear."

"A bear?"

"The Hackett's were stalking you in the woods because you and your friends saw them poaching illegally. "

"Bears?"

"There's a bear skull mounted on the wall in the Hackett's home. It gives it more credibility. Once they found out that you kids knew about their illegal activities, Then there's the missing hiker's, one of their bodies was found in the lake. Once they realized you knew, they couldn't let you go."

"What about Ryan? They won't tell me if he's ok. I tried telling them that the last time I saw him he went off with Laura. I didn't follow them. I went with Kaitlyn to the scrapyard. But they didn't seem to believe me?"

"Kaitlyn has already confirmed she was with you. They have no reason not to believe it. As for your friend and Miss Kearney they were being held hostage at the Hackett's property and were forced to defend themselves."

"I still don't think they'll let me off that easy. I..." Seriously fucked up. "I think I seriously fucked up."

"You went through a traumatic event. It's understandable to be a little confused. You're still processing. But I need to know if you have been mentally diagnosed with anything."

"No. But I've been to a therapist before..for a few years. I have anxiety."

"That does count as a genuine diagnosis. You should keep seeing one, a therapist. Mental health is important."

"How's Kaitlyn?"

"Taking it like a champ."

"No, really. How...how is she?"

"They cleared her already. There were two sets of fingerprints on the gun that was used to kill Miss Mountbank. Yours and Kaitlyn's."

"I feel guilty about Emma. I didn't think it was... It was going to kill us. I didn't know it was...her" That was a partial lie. He had known that there was a chance for it to be Nick, Emma or even Jacob. In a way he did kill Emma. They wouldn't be wrong. Kaitlyn would tell him that he was wrong. That she was her own strong independent woman. He didn't tell her what to do. She chose to use the silver shell.

"You had no way of knowing that. And I'd refrain from saying things like feeling guilty. It could be used against you."

"Right. But what about survivors guilt?"

"I was being serious Mr. Lenivy."

"N...no. So was I. Sometimes when I speak it doesn't come out the way I mean it to. Sorry."

"Kaitlyn already told me about Miss Mountebank. When you checked the van to try to escape, you heard rustling in the bushes. You thought it was a bear or that it could be one of the Hackett's. You told her to shoot fearing for both your safety."

"I mean I was more concerned for her. When can I see her?"

"In a little bit. They're going to show you more pictures..."

He shakes his head. "No. No. I don't think that I can." He felt like his throat was going to close. He didn't want to have to look at Ryan's body, if he was dead.

"Take a deep breath. It's almost over. You're going to have to do this. For Ryan."

"Ok. Ok. I can do this." He breathed in and out, finally relaxing. Well, as relaxed as he could be. "Then they'll let me see Ryan too right?"

She got up quickly. What was that expression on her face? She picked up her papers and briefcase. For a second he thought she was leaving. Then she moved her belongings in front of the chair next to him and sat down.

"I'm not going anywhere. You don't have to say anything. I'll be here with you this time. You can let me do the talking."

Bad cop one and two were back.

"Right." One of them cleared their throat. "Let's continue, shall we? Max Brinly...was mauled when he swam to shore from the island. Sheriff Hackett and Laura Kearney were killed in a car wreck."

"And Ryan...was he with them? He's alright, isn't he?"

"No. He's not alright. Mr. Ezrahler was with them. He died instantly."

Ryan. A car wreck? What were they doing on the road?

"No, he can't be. That's...that's not right." He was unaware he had said the words out loud.

Should he look, or should he remember him as the smiling, carefree and laid-back man he had fallen for. Too late. It was a quick glance. But quick enough, to see that Ryan's neck had been broken. It would have been instant like they said. But why didn't that make him feel any better?

As he turned his head away, holding the tears beginning to sting his eyes at bay. Shut down, shut down, shut down. Don't let them see you cry. Crying's for losers. Invisible left fingers flexed, digging into his thigh.

"What was your relationship with Mr. Ezrahler?"

"We were counselors together for two months. We got to know each other a bit. I guess you could say we're uh... were friends." His voice sounded wooden, expressionless.

"Just friends?"

"Yeah, officially, that's all we were. "

"But you wanted something more to happen."

"I would be lying if I didn't say I wanted something more to happen."

"Are you gay, Dylan?"

"You don't have to answer that, Dylan, it's not relevant to the case at all." His lawyer informed him.

"Maybe not," Dylan said, "but it's fine. I'm queer. I guess. I don't really like to put labels on things."

"You were outed last year by one of your classmates, at a party. Amber Abernathy. We spoke with her. She recalled how you were upset and left. Maybe when Ryan was dared to kiss you, it brought all of that back.

Maybe you felt humiliated and wanted to get revenge. Miss Mountebank reminded you of what Amber did. And when you panicked, you tried to pass it off as a bear attack. It would be mighty convenient. I mean the resemblance between Miss Abernathy and Miss Mountebank is pretty uncanny, wouldn't you say?"

They were really trying to paint this as if he had some internalized homophobia? Or that he went on a rampage and hurt the others because of it? It was absurd. It was laughable. He was proud of who he was. What Amber did, ironically gave him that little push to finally accept himself. That they would even suggest that he killed Emma because she resembled Amber, like he was some serial killer in the making or something, he should be furious at this line of questioning, how homophobic and pointless it was.

"No. No! That's not...That's not what happened."

"Then tell us what happened."

"It's obvious what happened here detective. They were scared for their lives...throw guns in the mix and scared teenagers under the influence of alcohol, well, bad things are going to happen." The detective ignored her snark tone. No wonder where Kaitlyn got it from.

"Did Ryan return the same feelings?"

"Where are you going with this detective? This is entirely irrelevant."

"This is not a court room Ms. Ka. "

"Continue on then, but I will have this on record if my clients sexuality or speculation of is used against him."

"Very well. How did Ryan react to the dare?"

"I guess the feeling wasn't mutual. I don't know. Ryan wasn't the very talkative type."

"You tried to give Ryan your number multiple times. Do you think maybe he was pressured? That he was upset with your advances, that he would perhaps even hurt you?"

"What? No? He wouldn't..."

"We both know that a bear didn't do that or that you did that to yourself. The cut was too even. Someone else would have to have done that to you. You told us at the hospital when you woke up that Ryan did it. Then you changed your story saying that you did it. Why did you lie?"

"I didn't want Ryan to get in trouble. I told him to do it. That thing bit my hand. I was convinced it was infected. And there was black stuff going up my arm and it hurt so much and I just… I just wanted it to stop." He could hear the grinding of the chainsaw, against bone, blood spattering everywhere. Everyone's blood on him that night. Nick's, Abi's, his own. He could still feel it clinging to him as if he'd never wash it clean.

"That's enough Detectives. My client is clearly in distress."

"Distress can also be a sign of guilt."

"It can also be signs of a traumatized young man, who just found out the rest of his friends are dead. Just give us a few minutes."

"Just take a deep breath. We're almost done."

She said that about a half hour ago. He didn't know if he could make it another half hour. It felt like an eternity.

A few minutes only felt like a few seconds.

"Really detectives? You couldn't give us more than five minutes?"

Five minuets, that's all it's been?

"Sorry. On a time crunch. Just one more question and we're done here. Do you know who this is?" The cop showed one more picture.

A pale albino boy, about fifteen, no older than Caleb had been, sprawled out on the road. He had red eyes. Red eyes like his when he had been infected. Red like blood.

He rubbed his eyes and shook his head. Not in answer to the detective's question. He was trying to clear the images from his head.

"Laura Kearney managed to shoot him before she died. His name was Silas Vorez. He was believed to have died six years ago, along with his mother Eliza Vorez in a fire. Do you know why she would do that?"

He shook his head. He had some idea. He was another werewolf. The one that bit him. It had to have been. It had been a question lingering in the back of his mind. He was freed of the werewolf curse when Laura had killed Silas in her final moments.

It didn't feel like a celebration without Ryan here.

"Ok, detectives we're done here now. Any further questions, will be answered by me."

"Did...did Kaitlyn know?"

"No. No she didn't." He didn't want to believe her. Not even when the door swung open and Kaitlyn ran toward him. She was blocked again from touching him.

"Get your hands off me. Let me go, you assholes. Let me see him."

"Let them." Olivia demanded.

The officer reluctantly allowed it.

Kaitlyn reached her arms toward him. He sank to his knees, and she held him. He sobbed. And once he started, he couldn't stop.

The tiled walls reminded him of the public high school bathroom. With his head in his hand, Dylan hunches over, on the edge of the bed, as far away from the foul smelling toilet as possible. He tries to imagine himself at home in his own bed but the smell is a reminder that he is in fact in a cell. How long would they keep him here? For months. Like Max and Laura were.

It won't be that long. They're just trying to shake something out of you." His lawyer said. "I'm sorry I can't do more."

"How long can they keep me here?"

"No more than forty-eight hours. It's a tactical maneuver. They want answers. Don't say anything not a word. " Then she left.

The drool on his cheek and the stiffness in his limbs are the only indication that he actually slept, though he's still exhausted.

The scarce light shimmering through the small window doesn't give away the time. Was it early morning?

Maybe he should tell them the truth. It'd maybe get him out of here faster or get him a padded room and he'd never have to see a full moon again, knowing what was out there. They'd put him on so many drugs he wouldn't know what day it was, wouldn't be able to think or feel.

No. He couldn't do that to Kaitlyn, he couldn't fail her, couldn't let saving her be in vain. He hadn't yet failed Izzy. He needed to be there for her.

They delivered his breakfast. Soupy oatmeal and dry stale toast. He barley touched a bite. A psychical therapist came to continue his exercises from the hospital. That was rather too kind of them. Afterward he managed to take a nap and woke him for lunch.

Afterwards they pulled him back into the interrogation room, where he sat waiting with his lawyer.

"I want to play something for you." She takes out a device and presses a button.

"Mr. Lenivy, I'm detective Annie Kline. I need you to tell me everything about what happened that night."

"I already told you what were being stalked by these things...by these hunters..."

"Did everyone else think that?"

"Yes."

"And these creatures, these animals, you said that they were werewolves?"

"We didn't know what they were. Did you find them? The others?"

A brief pause and paper shuffling.

"Yes. They've been recovered. Most of the bodies were found with silver bullet's in them. The others did have injuries consistent with maulings...Can you explain that for me?"

"It was the only way."

It sent chills up his spine. It didn't sound like him but yet it was. He never liked hearing the sound of his own voice on a recording. Then again who did? Something about it was slightly off...like he was out of it.

"That...that doesn't sound like me. I don't remember that." It also made him sound guilty.

"You were under a lot of prescription pain killers and still in shock. They won't be able to use it against you."

It should feel like a relief but what perturbed him more is the fact he'd already been told they were dead and he didn't remember. Was it the drugs he was on or had his mind blocked it out, to protect him?

The detective, Pete Novak, and the detective from the hospital came into the room. Her badge read Detective Kline. She was the one on the recording. That's where he remembered seeing her from. Her acting familiar with him when she asked him about Abi.

"Just tell us what happened. In your own words." Detective Novak pushed a yellow notepad across the table to him.

"You mean confess."

"If that's what you want to call it."

"Pete.." The female detective's voice sounded disapproving.

Dylan gripped the pen in his right hand. "Upon reflecting..." He set the pen down, sliding the notepad back to detective Novak, who looked defeated. "I am absolutely certain that I didn't hurt anyone. I'd never hurt anyone on purpose."

"Is that your final statement?"

His lawyer answered for him. "I will be filing for the immediate release of my client. Unless you plan to file criminal charges today, which frankly I don't see happening, given the shameful unfounded speculation and intimidation my client had been subjected to."

"Your client is free to leave any time."

After the relentless questioning, he was finally able to go home. His father's house to be exact. They had to dodge reporters, (the neighbor firing up the weed wacker, sounding very much like a chainsaw, he froze to the spot) his father had to hurry him along, shuffling him from the garage, across the lawn, around to the back door, shouting and cursing at them.

He pulled down the blind over the back door that led to the kitchen.

"It will die down eventually, they'll have better things to report, chasing some fake hate crime. Fucking activists."

Dylan was too exhausted mentally and psychically to argue with him, begrudgingly agreeing that main stream media, was 'fake news'.

"You alright?

"Yeah."

"Time for your meds again." His father gave him his daily dose of pain killers and antibiotics and then went to his new room to lie down.

The room was a mirrored bigger version of his room at his mom's. Almost an exact replica. The bed sheets, the navy blue blackout curtains, the Malcolm X poster above the bed. In fact they were his things. The laptop on the desk, (not his, it was missing claw marks from Shrodie and the stickers Izzy had placed on the drawers and the underside)he booted it up. It was his laptop. He logged in his password to find...

No internet connection. They still must not trust him. He opened his Itunes playlist instead and put on his headphones, sinking back comfortably into the soft cushion office chair.

He must have drifted off

Spend all night in your arms...too afraid to fall...

He wasn't sure if it was the song or the knocking on the door that startled him, but he hit the pause button so fast, yanking off the headphones.

There's a light rapping on the door. Mel peeks her head in.

"Knock Knock. Can I come in?"

He didn't want to be rude to her and report back to his dad. Would she do that?

"I guess."

"I just wanted to check in I guess. I brought a few things from your room from the house. I hope you don't mind.

"It's uh..great."

"Great. Listen...I'm sorry what happened to your...friend. Ryan?"

"We weren't really close.."

"Still you cared about him. What happened...I know it's a lot. If you need anything or need to talk..."

"I have a therapist, Mel."

"I know but if you wanted to talk to anyone other than your therapist.."

"I'm good thanks."

"Hey, uh," She pointed a thumb towards the door. "I was thinking about picking up some burgers at this new burger place. It has black bean veggie burgers. How does that sound?"

"Sounds fine." Sounds like she's not much of a cook like mom. That means dad will be doing the cooking around here.

"Alright then. You don't need to look after Izzy tonight, she's at a sleepover, and your dad's working late."

"Looks like it's just us then."

" Yep." She shifted her feet uncomfortably. "Look...I don't want to replace your mother, nor am I trying to for Izzy, I know you're too old for one..but Izzy's still at the age where she needs a maternal figure."

"That's fine."

"No. It's not...I meant what I said earlier, at the hospital, about you being part of our family."

"Can we..talk about this later. I'm actually pretty tired."

"Yes. Of course."

"Just promise me when this new kid comes along, you won't treat her any differently."
Her mouth gaped open and closed like a fish, not sure if he was joking or in disbelief that he would make such an accusation. She closed it instead, shutting the door firmly behind her.

Schrodie jumped on the bed, jarring his stump as he plopped down on top of it. The floof's warm body and soft rumbling purrs soothed most of the pain away, pulling him into a dreamless sleep.

He was awoken by a knock on the door.

"Come in."

His dad entered, carrying a bag in his hand. One you would use to wrap a gift. "I got something for you. Since you lost yours. Consider it a late birthday present."

Inside it was a new phone that was obviously near a thousand dollars. "I can't accept this."

"Keep it. It's yours."

" I don't want your pitty."

"I don't pitty you."

"Well, alright then." He could use it to text Kaitlyn. "How late is it?"

"Late. Mel left a burger for you in the fridge. She didn't want to wake you."

When he was sure his dad went back to his room, he padded down to the kitchen. The fridge was stocked with every vegan snack that he liked.
A post-it note was stuck to the vegan yogurt

Dylan feel free to help yourself -Mel

She really did take the time and effort, trying to make him feel welcome. It made it hard to dislike her. Why can't evil step mother's or soon to be stepmother's just remain evil?

But to return the favor, to care about Mel , seemed like a betrayal to mom but she would at least want him to remain civil.
He went for the roasted seaweed with sea salt. It tasted off, like wet mushy grass. Immediately he went to the sink and spit it out. He grabbed a glass of water to wash the taste out of his mouth.

Going back to the fridge, his eyes caught sight of a plate of what looked like four raw pork chops in pink red blood. He usually didn't eat meat very often but he suddenly had a craving. No it was more than that, a hunger. No. It's just all in his head. He's not a werewolf. He's human.

"Did you find everything ok?" She nearly startled him.

"Uh...y...yeah." He lifted the bag with the veggie burger. "All set."

"I was thinking about making pork chops tomorrow."

"That'll be great. Thanks. What...what are you doing up?"

"I'm going to pick up Izzy. She's not feeling well."