I walked on, trying to keep my mind on my stride, on the miles going by, on the next town, which surely couldn’t be far away. My destination seemed abominably distant—so distant that it was not even a reality, it was a farfetched goal. I don’t think I really believed that I’d make it all the way to New Mexico. It was too cold, I was too tired, too used up.

And then I noticed a glow in the sky ahead. I looked behind me to make sure, yes, the sky was definitely lighter ahead. A town. Soon I’d come over a ridge and see a cafe sign, the first truck stop this side of town, and it would be warm and serve hot choco­late and I could stay in there and rest, warm up and maybe even get a ride south, maybe one ride all the way, all the way to New Mexico.

Then I heard my boot heels, felt their rhythm, and the old feeling washed through me. I felt it, but was reluctant to give in to it; my misery had kept me warm all these miles. But there it was, undeniable excitement. I had left Her behind; I was getting out of town, making a new start. What on earth had I to be morose about? Life was good; I was free. I was intelligent and able; my past need not haunt me.

I skipped a few steps as the glow in the sky became brighter. My whole body tingled in freedom. I felt the tremble in the ground, it grew to a rumble, and the next truck stopped and gave me a ride.

It was warm in the cab, and the driver had a thermos of hot coffee that he shared. We drove right through that town, and the next, my teeth chattering in the warmth of the truck. I had no conception of how cold I’d been until I started to warm up, and then the task seemed impossible. Frost had etched the marrow of my bones.

The driver’s name was Ned, and he was a nice boy. I often caught him peering at me with curiosity, and while I was loath to be rude to him—he was, after all, giving me a ride, warmth, and coffee—I did not appreciate his overt interest. I located a blanket behind my seat and wrapped up in it.

“You a runaway?”

“From what?”

“You know. School. Family.”

“No. I have no family.”

“Where you headed?”

Exasperating, his questions. “New Mexico.”

“Got family there?”

“I have no family, as I said. I have friends there.”

“Aren’t you awful young?”

This was too much. I turned to look right into his face, so he needn’t keep sneaking peeks around my coat collar. “I’m not too young,” I said.