“Who did this?” Silas said, the disembodied toothbrush in his hand.
“I did,” I replied, turning away to hide my smile.
“But ... why? Why would you do that?” Silas said, incredulous that his father — who’d seemed so responsible until then — would do something so destructive. “To save weight,” I said. “When you’re carrying all your stuff like this, you gotta trim weight wherever you can.”