The way she was looking at me, as if life itself hinged on my answer, made my breath hitch. And for some reason, whereas I would have immediately dismissed the whimsical idea before right now, something inside was tempted to say, maybe. Maybe there is such a moment, a few seconds that undo every wrong. Maybe. Only Emily could do that—help me see possibility and hope where before I’d seen none. Only her.

And right then, it felt like a form of magic. It felt like—together—we could find that moment if it existed at all.

The sudden boom of gunfire made us both startle, and I got on my knees, peering over the wall of the tree fort, my heart hammering. The noise had come from a short distance away, probably someone hunting in this small section of woods. “We should go.”

“Darn. I was hoping this was a good place to camp.”

“We’re essentially in someone’s backyard,” I said. “There’s a neighborhood right over there. And if folks are hunting nearby, it isn’t safe. Also, if there’s danger, we’d be cornered up here.” I turned and started down the ladder. “We’ll camp somewhere safer that’s close by and start off again in the morning.”

We put our backpacks on once we were on the ground and turned back the way we’d come. The sky dimmed another few shades, turning from gold to amber to twilight blue. It was a chilly night and our breath gusted from our mouths as we moved through the damp forest. We walked for thirty minutes or so, winding back through the park, toward the road where I was pretty sure we’d taken a wrong turn. A glow appeared between the break in some trees, and we slowed. “A fire,” Emily whispered, her teeth chattering slightly. The sound of a harmonica met our ears. “Music,” she said, the longing in her voice was deeper than it’d been when she’d mentioned the campfire.

We had matches, but lighting a fire was always risky, depending on where we were. It would draw others even if it was a necessary risk.

“They’re laughing,” Emily said. “And I hear women.”

“That still doesn’t mean they’re safe.” The way her voice rose hopefully though, told me she was excited by the possibility of more social contact. I’d seen the way she’d lit up each time there was an opportunity to experience fellowship and conversation. I’d always been a loner, happy to be left in my own head, while Emily flourished in a crowd.