He sipped his tea, eyes downcast.

“And we fought. I’ll never forget it—yelling and carrying on like we were regular brothers in a regular world. But we weren’t. We were too loud. And then you pulled out this bag of chips. I was an idiot kid, so that’s all it took to make me feel better. Imagine, an orphan already so used to messed-up shit that chips made me smile? And then they came.”

I stopped, remembering the Recruiters’ whistles filling all the space in the yard and every cell in my head. I remembered the way Mitch had reeled in his fear so he could do what he did next.

“You told me to escape. You told me, ‘They know someone’s up here, just not how many someones,’ and then you made me jump into the trees. I stayed there for a long time with my eyes closed. But I could still hear everything. Yelling, whistles, banging, your leg breaking…And then, after a while, there was no more noise. And I came down. Before I left, I found this, this army man lying in the grass.”

He kept his eyes down, but his shoulders shrugged slowly. I couldn’t tell if he was being dismissive or reverting back to that kid who’d been taken away.

“I knew it was yours. You’d snagged it from a ransacked store, kept it in your pocket. So I picked it up and put it in my pocket, and I’ve had it ever since.”

“Why are you telling me this?” He sat still, but the muscle in his jaw flickered.

“No reason.” I tipped forward and placed the little man by his foot. “Just talking.”

I got up and carried my bag to the lean-to. I wasn’t tired. There were too many thoughts in my head, too many possibilities. But I wanted to give him some time on his own to think, to really, truly be in those memories. Who knew how often he got to do that at the school?

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

My body must have relaxed into the familiar smells and chill of the woods, because I was asleep before he made it inside. In the morning, there was a moment of peace, lying there with the world waking up around me, when I forgot why I was there. I was just plain old French, out on the run but still inside.…And then reality poured into my consciousness, and I felt my bladder pinch. I rolled over. Mitch was beside me, his face more familiar to me now in sleep. I wondered what he was dreaming about. Then I wondered if he could dream at all anymore.

I carefully slid out of the shelter and into the day. It was still so early an owl hooted indignantly from a nearby tree. The morning birds hadn’t yet started their daily ablutions.

I relieved myself beside a blueberry bush grown vascular with strangler vines and clapped my hands to warm them up. Since we weren’t in any real danger and we were still far enough away from the group, I decided on a small morning fire. The pit was cold. Mitch must have put out the fire before he came to bed. I worked until there was a small bundle of flame in the center of the ashes, just enough to heat up some water. I didn’t have anything to add to it, but it would feel good to drink in warmth. I’d get some boiling and then wake Mitch so we could pack up and get going.