After he left, I went inside.
The cabin was quiet again.
I put my bag down.
Made coffee.
Opened the kitchen window.
And listened.
No shouting.
No children running upstairs.
No arguments about bedrooms.
No one asking what was for dinner.
No one telling me to sleep on the couch.
Just the creek.
That afternoon, I sat on the porch with my grandmother’s old quilt wrapped around my shoulders.
My phone buzzed.
A message from Kevin.
I almost ignored it.
Then I opened it.
I was angry. But I know you were right about one thing.
A second message appeared.
We should have asked.
I stared at the screen.
Then another message.
Can we talk next week? Just me and you?
I thought about it.
Then typed one sentence.
Yes. But we talk as siblings, not as owner and guest.
He replied almost immediately.
Fair.
I put the phone down.
