Brady was back again, standing on the sidewalk outside the old cottage with his bag at his feet, but this time the bag was an expensive titanium suitcase and his feet were shod with expensive and warm boots. He was a long way from the twelve year old orphan who had been dumped here by an overworked social worker so many years ago; thirty years to be exact. He took a deep breath, taking in the smell of the pines that bordered the property and noting that the caretaker had kept the old place in excellent care. The smell of a log fire enveloped him, and he stood there almost expecting Aunt Mattie to open the door and yell at him to come in, it was cold outside.

Mattie was gone; had been buried a few years ago and this small cottage and his memories of the old woman who had stepped up to raise him were all that remained. His life had gone places that poor young boy could never have envisioned in his wildest dreams, but now Brady needed a place to disappear for a while. He longed to figure out why he was so unhappy with his life given he had everything he had ever imagined and even more than that. So here he was, back in Wellmore, back in the cottage, back to where he had run away from. The time would come in the next days when he would find Mimi and they would talk and he would face the demons, but for now the fire called to him and he needed quiet and rest.

Then he’d work it all out. Maybe.