After my routine setup, I pull a necklace out of my crew-neck shirt, the silver end bullet-shaped. Only Daisy knows this, but Sully had a will—this poorly written note found in the fucking glove compartment of his green Jeep. In it, he wrote: Give Ryke Meadows my ashes. I want to be in the clouds, and no one is going to get there but him. His parents gave me a small portion of his ashes. The rest, they buried in the ground, so I’m going to do my fucking best to leave him in the sky. “You’re going to climb one last time with me, Sully.” Then I grip the rock. With the corners of my mouth
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