Huddled under a tree that night, Nam refused Rose’s body warmth and turned away instead.

“Nam, are you mad at me?”

“No, just sad,” they answered, their voice small in the curve of a bent elbow. Crickets chirped in the grass around them. “Why couldn’t we take him, the kid from back there? Why’d we just leave him?”

“We have to move fast, quiet. And we’re not headed anywhere safe. It wouldn’t be right to put him in more danger.” Rose was tired, her muscles ticking into exhaustion, but she knew they had to talk this out. There was no room for space between them.

“We’re taking risks for your family. How do we decide who’s worth that risk? Maybe that kid was.”

This made Rose stop. “I guess we decide. We have to. Look,” she sighed, “you haven’t spent a lot of time out here. You were probably barely walking when you left the rez. Shit’s bad. You can’t imagine.”

Nam turned suddenly. “Oh, I can’t imagine? What do you think would happen to me at the schools, Rose? Huh? I have more to lose than just dreams.”

“Yeah, we can cease to exist,” Rose shot back.

“I’d cease to exist before they ever cut into me.” Nam was getting loud. Rose put a hand on their forearm, and they took a breath before continuing, low and urgent. “How do they keep us, do you think?”

“What do you mean?”

“Do they organize us based on size? How about age? Or more likely by gender—boy, girl, boy, girl. And what about those who don’t fall into those categories, all neat and tidy?” They paused. “I would have so much taken from me—my name, my identity, my autonomy—before they even exposed the first bone.”

Rose counted three crickets calling as she took all this in. Holy shit, how could she have dragged them out here, taken them on this crazy journey without giving a second thought to what they were truly putting on the line?

“Nam, I’m sorry. I didn’t think. You should have stayed with Derrick—”

“Again, you are deciding who is worth the risk. No, I decided. I decided that getting to your family is worth it. I decided that I am the kind of person who acts, who goes out into the dark, who goes all out when they’re needed. I decided I’m a community member the day you showed me community.” They rubbed their face with a sleeve, their breath hitching.

Rose collected them in her arms, with the crickets singing and the stars starting to pop through the clouds above them. “You’re my community, Nam. We got this. Whatever this is, whatever happens, we got this.”

The next afternoon, they came across a rebel nurse. She was a little worse for wear but still eating. Her name was Simone, and she had chosen to stay out while others fled, in case travelers needed her. Turned out she was needed. She led Nam and Rose to a farmer who let them sleep in his barn overnight, even bringing out a big plastic bowl of instant chicken noodle soup for them to share.