You had all gone along to Francis’ country house for the long weekend. The beginning of the fall season was made known in the colder nights, the tint of the leaves, earlier sun rises and settings. Over the long break, the days were spent comfortably with games of chess and cards, long and tipsy conversations that melded well into the nights, nature walks, and home brewed coffee. The house was, thankfully, big enough for everyone to have their own rooms, which made Bunny’s incessant snoring more bearable.

It was late into the night when you decided to venture downstairs for a glass of water (preferably wine or whiskey, but whatever you could find) when your eyes found Henry out on the back porch, a trademark cigarette held between two dexterous fingers and his eyes scanning over the lake. He seemed equally restless, clad in a loose clothes and his hair messy on his head.