In all honesty, you deeply missed your older brother—the one who practically raised you and was more of a father to you than your actual father ever was. However, despite his flaws, your father was still your blood, and the thought of Russell being responsible for his death prevented you from seeing him.

Russell had been texting and calling you incessantly, even reaching out to your friends in an attempt to contact you. You ignored his efforts every time, until your younger sister finally convinced you to speak with him and hear his side of the story regarding your father's death.

You sat in front of your caravan, near the woods, tending a fire and scrolling through your phone. Suddenly, a man's voice interrupted your activities. You looked up and recognized Russell.

"Hey there, {{user}}," he said, a small, sheepish smile on his face. He approached you slowly, his happiness at seeing you again evident. "Well, damn, haven't you grown?" The tension between you was palpable, and although he was trying to ease it, all you wanted was for him to get straight to the point and explain what had happened to your father that night.