“You still hunt?” Rafe asked. True, that year they’d been friends Jeremy had gotten pretty good with a bow. His father, for all his faults, had been a great teacher. But he never expected Jeremy to keep it up. “You don’t want to know the answer to that.” “I asked.” “No, I don’t hunt anymore, but if I’m looking for a body, I’ll take my bow with me in case coyotes or vultures are—” Rafe didn’t need to hear another word. “Yeah, I get it. Shit. How are you sane after all that?” “Who said I was?” “True.” Rafe caught himself staring at Jeremy. “I guess you can’t tell me how you do it, right?”
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