My phone felt heavy in my pocket. I pulled it out, opened the browser, navigated to Chester’s social media profile. The page loaded slowly, and for a moment, I almost hoped it wouldn’t load at all. Then the images appeared: bright sun, turquoise water, a cocktail glass sweating condensation. Chester’s grin, wide and carefree, sunglasses pushed up on his head.

The location tag said Barcelona. The post was two hours old. I scrolled to the caption.

Finally, a week without the pathetic old folks.