It was a random trip, picked quite literally with a dart to a map. Jon would be going to Kenya. He'd never been outside America before, and he figured selecting places at random would be the best way to start. After all, why go through all the fuss and research when you could just let a mix of fate and chance make the decisions for you?

He packed his bag, being careful to take only one piece of luggage. One of those roll-away things that were still allowed in the overhead compartments. The previous months had been a roller coaster, and Jon was surprised it was this easy to pack up everything he'd need for two weeks in a foreign country. There were sure to be things he'd need, things he'd forgotten, but he could purchase them on an as-needed basis.

On the table beside his hotel bed sat the manila envelope containing the last important documents he needed. The divorce decree. The papers for the sale of his house. His brother's death certificate.

They'd once planned, long ago when they were boys, that they'd travel the world together. Get out of their rundown hometown and see what the planet really had to offer them. Two brave, adventurous young boys.

And now Mark was gone, long buried in Arlington. Jon had received the phone call from his parents approximately three weeks after his wife had served him with divorce papers. He'd been on the road to the Perfect American Life, and then it had come crashing down around him in quick succession. Somewhere deep down, Jon wasn't surprised that the life he thought he'd been building had been about as stable as a house of cards.

After the funeral, after he'd sifted through his brother's personal effects, Jon signed the divorce papers. And he'd walked away from everything, living at home while the sale went through for the house. His car. All his worldly possessions that Catherine hadn't decided to take with her. He was in fire sale mode. Everything had to go.

It was time to start over.