“True,” Charlie agreed. “Hollywood and the music industry will go all in the way they always do. There’ll be dozens of telethons.”

I perked up at the thought of all the opportunities in front of me. “And marathons.”

“Walkathons.”

“Exactly. We should be on those phones, Charlie. We should cross finish lines for the cause and maybe even—” I drew in a breath as I looked over at him, a new idea suddenly coming to me “—perform a benefit concert!”

“That’s a great idea, Emily. With great privilege comes great responsibility.”

“Exactly.” Maybe I’d start writing a single for it while we were out on the road.

Up ahead, Tuck’s smooth gait didn’t change, but I swore I saw his shoulders move as he pulled in a long-suffering sigh and then let it out slowly.

He hefted the backpack higher on his shoulder and I did the same with mine. Along with the backpack Katelyn had given me, the sheriff had provided two more for Tuck and Charlie, including sleeping bags to roll up and strap beneath. He’d also given Tuck several other items they could spare: some food to get us through a couple of days, a canteen of water, a first aid kit, some matches, a map… They’d been very generous, and I knew it was in large part because Tuck had helped their son and brother who was now pain-free and on the mend.

We followed in his footsteps like we’d done when traveling from the plane to Silver Creek, speeding up when he did, and stopping when he took out the map to study it for a moment before refolding it and returning it to his backpack.

And honestly? I appreciated being led in this situation. Tuck had very naturally assumed the job of leading me and Charlie. Taking charge. Forging the path ahead. And despite that I was grateful for his role, part of me also felt irrationally resentful about the fact that Tuck was happier walking solo.

He was such a damn loner. Always a one-man show. It’d started when he was a teenager and compounded by a million when his mother died.

But he hadn’t always been that way. And that was the part I hated. Once, we’d been a pair. Once, he hadn’t shut me out. And sometimes, when my mind was quiet, and I was thinking about Tuck, like right now, all I could wonder was what I’d done wrong.

We passed abandoned cars and trucks here and there, some that had their front hood open, the insides black with the evidence of a fire that had since burned out. Tuck leaned inside one of the vehicles and dug through the glove box, grinning when he stood up, holding what looked like a couple of food items. Charlie and I walked closer. “Three Fruit Roll-Ups!” I said, my voice rising with excitement.