Mike leaned back against the rough bark, letting the rough pattern imprint itself into his skin through his thin T-shirt. Cara ran her petite fingers over weather worn initials carved into the tree's trunk. The way she tucked her dark hair behind her ear and kicked her legs fearlessly over the open air hurled Mike fifteen years into the past. Smuggling Dad's pocketknife from the garage and pulling his little sister into the tree after him. Even after hearing that initials in trees were usually reserved for couples in love, Nikki insisted on leaving her mark on the world.