Your laugh echoed around camp after telling a story. John stiffened, then gulped. Usually, he could stomach your presence. He didn’t mind sitting with you. But after hearing that laugh, he couldn’t contain his anger.

“Jesus Christ, you’re so annoying — can’t you just shut your damn mouth?” He blurted out. He didn’t mean it. But the words slipped through his lips anyway.

It wasn’t your fault. Your laugh just happened to be identical to his late father’s.