Ruth is the first one back in the RV. I’m not sure if she’s eaten anything but a couple chips from the bag Ellie handed her earlier, and she didn’t get any food in the gas station. Her skin looks gray. While she climbs back into the RV, I stay outside to wait for Ellie or Eddie. I need to talk to one of them about this. To see if they’re seeing what I’m seeing, or if things are okay and I’m overreacting. I wait and look at the sky and watch the two birds circle each other.

Ruth has gotten sick like this before, but the problem is that I don’t know what it means. I don’t know if it’s a twenty-four-hour kind of sick or a back-to-before-the-medicine-started-working sick. She might just have some tummy bug. She might just need to sleep. But it might be much worse. She might be in the deepest, blackest kind of Pit. The kind that feels like a trap, like you’re never going to be free of the dark again.

All I want is for her to be okay.

Ellie and Eddie come out together, holding hands and laughing. They look up to see what I’m watching.

“Those are some beautiful birds,” says Eddie.

“Yeah,” I say. “Hey, uh, can I talk to…”

“Ellie?”

We all turn together. A tall woman with dark but graying hair, tan skin, and gold hoop earrings stares at us. I don’t think I’ve ever seen almost-gray hair look so beautiful before. She’s standing next to a small green car with the gas nozzle in her hand. I’m glad she hasn’t started filling up yet because from the look on her face she wouldn’t have noticed if the nozzle started spurting out fire, let alone gasoline.

Ellie’s usually vibrant face goes white, her mouth open like she’s been punched in the gut. The look is so unusual for her, so unlike her happy exuberance, that I would be frightened except for the look on her husband’s face—worried, but unafraid and full of tenderness. He puts an arm around her shoulders and strokes her arm.

I look down. I feel awkward, like I’ve walked in on someone naked. I don’t want to be here, but I don’t want to draw attention to myself by bolting to the RV either. I stand very still.

“Sofia Hernandez,” Ellie says.

We all stand for a moment, staring silently, a triangle of pulling and pushing forces, like magnets. I look back and forth between this Ms. Hernandez and Ellie. The bell over the door dings. Still nobody moves. I catch a whiff of cigarette smoke.