Malcolm can't help but smile at that comment. "Getting by by faking it is an art form," he says. "I had to fake being okay a lot of the time." Granted, he fakes being okay here too. Honestly, it sort of works? He hasn't had a mental break down yet.

The beam of his flashlight shines in bright strips along the grass and into ever corner outside the cabin as they walk. If there's anything at all, he will catch it.