“When he opened the door, Jakey saw the half-assembled Lincoln Log cabin that he and Sebastian had started building before dinner. Jakey thought about finishing the structure, giving it a roof to provide insulation from the outside world. But he couldn’t. Instead, Jakey grabbed one of the longer logs, twisting the wood between his fingers and his thumb. He grazed the notches on both ends. He used to appreciate those divots, but now he hated them. The grooves made everything seem so easy when the pieces fit together. But when the parts were disassembled, the logs just looked broken. Mutilated. Jakey threw one log against the wall. He cried, unsure why. When his mother came to get him ready for bed, Jakey wiped his tears away and lied about their origin. A stubbed toe, he claimed. He tore down the partially constructed cabin and put the Lincoln Logs back in the box. He slept in his room alone; Sebastian was gone for good.”