Beta Stephen drives us for hours that day, long into the night. The charms of the RV even wear off for the boys after a few hours, and they sit quietly at the table, playing a board game on the table. As I look at it, I frown in confusion to see that they’re using pieces from chess, checkers, and pa
“Where are you?” I ask, brushing a strand of hair behind my ears. There’s so, so much more I want to ask her – but I also know that it’s important for her to tell me her story on her own terms. “I’m at Annabeth’s,” Bridgette says, her voice a little more cheerful now. “She’s so nice, actually.” She
“Well, you look happy,” Victor says to me, coming close when I walk back to the RV after hanging up with Bridgette. “So why am I wiping tears from your face?He does just that as he says it, wiping my cheeks with his thumb, looking down into my face with concern on his. “It’s nothing,” I say, tryin
Victor’s eyes flash towards me as he grins a little, pleased with himself. “The Navy teaches all sorts of things besides combat.”“Oh really?” I ask, my eyebrows up. “And were you a dishwasher for long before they put you in SEAL training?”“No,” he says, stacking the last dish and drying his hands
The next day dawns bright and, fueled with a cup of perhaps too-strong coffee – Stephen winced when he drank it – we are off on the road as soon as we can.The boys’ interest in road life is renewed, luckily, when they discover a set of bingo cards that allows them to win by looking for disgusting t
Still, he meets my eyes and nods, settling it over his shoulders. We don’t have a choice. I walk over to Stephen and Victor with the boys, who are eagerly looking towards the overgrown trail head. Stephen looks at me, though, his face worried.“Good luck, Luna,” he says, offering his hand.I take i
We walk for hours that day, until night starts to creep in on us. We’re lucky, actually, that it’s a mild February and that we’re not racked with cold. Still, despite the nip in the air, I feel the sweat pouring off me beneath my jacket. This worries me for two reasons. One, because I’m almost sure
“Please,” Alvin says, guilt written all over his little face. “Please don’t be frightened – we didn’t want to tell you, because we knew you would be frightened.”“Really, mama,” Ian says, giving my hand a squeeze. “It’s okay.”I’m almost gasping now, I’m so freaked out, my head spinning to look all