"I, um," I paused then let out a hot breath. "Photos, I found them. I thought maybe one day you would want them. I just–I couldn't leave them here." He blinked hard and shook his head. "How did he get away with it?" His voice was tense and full of ire-filled annoyance. I looked around and shrugged. "Why don't we try the treehouse? We can look here a little more, but it wasn't a waste. We know the rocks were here, which, I know it sounds obvious, but it confirms that this was planned. Why else would these rocks be here if it wasn't?" Ethan nodded a little. "It just smells like them still. It doesn't smell like anything but ash and them. Where our kitchen was–" he said as he nodded to a corner where a counter was barely standing next to appliances that looked more like they had been painfully melted. "Still smells like my mother. It's so faint but it's still there." I scooted to him and kissed his shoulder. "Why don't we try the treehouse? We can always come back here another time?" He nodded. "Alright, sunshine." I stepped back and let my fur come forward. My beast was anxious, she felt our mate's pain and just wanted to help him. She walked forward carefully and nuzzled his arm until he wrapped it around us and pulled us closer to him, letting his head rest on top of mine while his fingers combed through the silky fur of my neck. He sighed and reached for the pictures. His fingers rolled them up as his eyes looked at them painfully. "I do want these, I'm glad you thought of it," he said on the edge of a tired breath as he extended the bundle to me. My wolf gently took them in her teeth while Ethan stepped back to shift to his fur. We left his house quickly, not looking back like we were afraid of disturbing it; the place where it all burned. The run to the treehouse was quiet as sadness seemed to seep into the bond. I could feel it, feel his mind going in all different directions as his beast yearned for vengeance. Mine did too and seeing that house didn't help. I shifted to my skin as we came up to the treehouse and found the familiar burrow with some old shirts of Ethan's in it. I tugged on an old gray one and some maroon boxers then stashed the photos safely there before I picked up a pair of sweatpants for him. He was leaning against the tree when I tossed him the sweatpants. "Anything down here?" He shook his head. "No, but I think Ryder needs to take a look at the old house and this place. I don't know if we'll find anything, I mean, I've been here so many times that if there was something I would have known." I shrugged. "We don't know that. It's not going to hurt anything so let's just try, ok?" He nodded then moved out of the way as I climbed up the ladder. I couldn't help but wonder where something would be up here. My beast agreed and leaned more to agree with Ethan. We felt like he would have smelled something, we would have. Or not. I thought of the rocks and wondered if maybe that was why. It probably was. Damn. I got onto the porch and let my beast come forward. She was a little tired but she was so desperate to find something, anything. I reached out and calmed her, we needed to keep a level head and push away our anxiety. She sighed but agreed as I started to smell around the place. Ethan got onto the porch and went directly inside, his eyes were scanning every nook and cranny carefully like it was the enemy. We walked around and looked for at least half an hour without finding anything. At one point, Ethan thought he had something, but it turned out to be an old sandwich that Evan had forgotten about. Anger. He walked out onto the porch and leaned against the railing. His fur was starting to poke out of his skin as his eyes swirled a little. "Ethan," I said gently as I walked to him. I slid my arms around his waist and kissed his chest. He slowly found my waist as well and pulled me into him as he let out a hot breath. "This doesn't mean there is nothing here." He shook his head. "Baby I don't think there is. We would have found it." I looked around again. My eyes captured the porch, or the newer part of the porch as an idea flashed in my brain. "You said you and Evan made a lot of repairs right?" "Mhmmm," he murmured a little tiredly. "What did you do?" He sighed and looked at me with a raised brow. "Come on, list then out." He shook his head and looked around as he chewed on the inside of his cheek. "Well, we filled the gashes in the walls, painted inside, we replaced some of the floor boards inside, and re-did the railings–they were getting loose and kind of dangerous." "What about out here?" He looked around and shrugged. "We did the deck down here, well part of it. We replaced some of the walls..." his voice trailed off as his eyes started to swirl. I could feel his heart pick up, beat a little faster. "Ethan, what is it?" He walked silently inside the house and to a wall of wood paneling that he proceeded to knock on until he found the area he wanted. He looked around until his eyes found a screwdriver sitting next to an empty beer can in the corner–a makeshift bottle opener. "Can you get me that screwdriver?" I nodded and retrieved it while he looked down at the four screws that held that particular panel. "What is it?" He took the screwdriver and started to unscrew the old rusted screws. "This," he said as he twisted firmly at the old screw that was stiff from the rust. "Is where Eli used to hide our beer from our dad." I knelt down and looked at it as Ethan pulled the first screw out and moved to the next. "You think?" He shrugged. "I don't know. Eli and I came out here when I was like fifteen? We made a false wall. Tore out the insulation and made a small cubby. We always left the screws kind of loose so we could use our fingers instead of a screwdriver." "Insulation? In a treehouse?" He shrugged. "Levi's idea. Told dad that if 'we're going to build a house, 'then we're going to build a damn house.'"