There are several bonfires set up all over the farm, and hayrides are going in a constant cycle. I’ve made my rounds, visiting with a few of the youth group girls I’ve been introduced to and saying hi to their parents. I wasn’t super sure about leading a small group of teens, but the girls are sweet, and their families are pretty welcoming, likely because I’m James’s niece. One mom asked me about my life before coming to Marquette, and when she heard I’d been homeschooled, you would have thought Jesus himself had ordained me worthy.

I didn’t bother correcting her.

The weather is crisp enough for hats and mittens with our sweaters, and it’s already dark out. I’m sitting on a log, nursing a too-hot hot chocolate, as Micah teaches James how to properly chop wood.

It’s no hardship, watching that boy, that’s for sure.

Duke nudges me gently with his shoulder, careful not to slop my hot cocoa. “He’s a good guy, right?”

“The best,” I admit.

“Not unfortunate looking either.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“You’ll take good care of him when I leave?”

I meet Duke’s eyes in the firelight. He’s genuinely worried.

“I will. I promise. You’re really doing it, huh?”

“Going to Ann Arbor?” he checks. At my nod, he says, “Yeah. Applied last week. I have to get out of here. But…” He winces. “I feel like a coward. Micah and I had this unspoken contract that we’d stay. He had a shit dad, and I had a shit dad. But we could handle them together. Then you came…”

“And I messed it up.”

“No!” Duke shakes his head. “Not at all. I was going to say, you came, and now Micah can handle anything with you. And I’m free to escape because I can’t handle anything here.”

“Okay, but you know we’re here or there … wherever you need us. Like, I don’t know if I’m staying here or moving back to Ann Arbor next year, but we’re with you.”

“I know.”

“And if and when you decide to come back here and confront your dad, we’re with you then, too.”

“Okay.”

“And if you decide to never come back, we’re still with you.”

“I notice you keep saying we.”

“Do I?” I smile, sipping my cocoa.

“You do. I know we only just became friends, but I’m going to miss you, Meg.”

“And I’ll be praying for you, my friend. Will that bother you?”

Duke seems surprised but shakes his head. “I don’t think so?”

“I’ll be praying that you find exactly who God made you to be.”

He holds up his Styrofoam mug. “Cheers, Hennessey.”