Page 80 of Corpse Roads

We resume our slow walk into town, stopping outside a bright-blue shop front with a striped overhang. The sign proclaims it to have the best pancakes in England inside.

Enzo has to duck low to fit through the door, locating a cracked vinyl booth in shades of bright pink and yellow. He looks ridiculous sliding into it.

“Could this get any smaller,” he grumbles.

I stifle a laugh. “Please don’t break it.”

“If I do, it’ll be the booth’s fault.”

A blonde-haired woman trails over, trying not to laugh when she spots his predicament. I tuck my chin low, averting my face before she can attempt to speak to me. Enzo quickly dismisses her and hands me a menu.

“What’s good?”

He shifts, making the booth creak. “Everything.”

“Not helpful.”

“Want me to order for you?”

I breathe a sigh of relief. “Please.”

When the waitress returns, Enzo fires off a huge order. Her eyes bulge with shock as she’s forced to flip to another page on her little pad. I’m pretty sure he just ordered half the menu.

Once she scurries away, Enzo stretches his long legs out until they brush mine under the table. He still looks uncomfortable.

“Tell me something.” I fiddle with the paper napkins on the table. “I want to know more about you guys. I feel like you know everything about me.”

He folds his huge arms. “Not much to tell.”

“I opened up. It’s your turn.”

“Fine,” he concedes. “Let’s see… well, me and Hunter grew up together. Our parents were neighbours. We’ve always been best friends. I couldn’t have gotten through my parents’ deaths without him.”

“What happened?”

“They died in a mountaineering accident when I was a teenager. It was during a sponsored climb of Mount Everest for a leukaemia charity. Despite years of training, it all went wrong.”

Reaching across the table, I take his clenched hand. Enzo’s fingers tighten around mine.

“My sister was diagnosed with cancer as a toddler, so my folks did a lot of fundraising for the expedition. There was an avalanche before they could summit. We never recovered their bodies.”

“I’m so sorry,” I offer, hating his pain.

His hand squeezes mine. “My dad’s sister, Hayley, is a saint. She was looking after us while they were away and ended up taking custody of me and my younger sister. She raised us like her own.”

“She sounds pretty amazing.”

“Yeah, she really is. When Paula got her terminal diagnosis, Hayley devoted everything to her. We practically lived in the paediatric ward until she died.”

Enzo stares down at the tabletop, his throat bobbing. I had no idea he’d lost pretty much his whole family. The pain he has to feel is unimaginable. Abbie lost her brother in a motorcycle accident. She told me about it once.

Grief is an impenetrable, lonely prison.

I hate the thought of Enzo suffering alone.

“After Paula died, I dropped out of school. Hunter was already working as a personal trainer, but he was unhappy. We decided to go backpacking around South America for a year.”

“So how did you end up founding Sabre?”

---