Dance jerked like he was going to do something, but the boy with the blue mohawk stilled him, touching his arm and shaking his head. Blue Mohawk’s hand moved to his side. Starla was silent as a doll.

The women from Skate State, Jamey’s friends, had not made it into a tree.

I saw them stumble into the clearing below us, pushed forward by the men. One of the women wore a nightgown, so thin I swore I could see her heart beat. The other woman was barefoot.

They had braided Jamey’s hair. They had painted the face of her daughter. Now they were kneeling before the men in boots.

“Where are the others?” a man said.

“There ain’t any others,” one of the women said.

We heard but did not see the slap. On the platform, Starla whimpered. I saw Jamey squeeze her tighter, slip her hand over the baby’s mouth.

“There’s a fire. We know there’s a camp here,” the man said. “We know you’ve got people.”

Another woman’s voice. “It was our fire.”

“You’re stupid, then.”

“Let’s just go,” the second man said.

“We didn’t get what we came for.”

“They’re not here.”

“You believe these cunts?”

“Look, man,” the second man said. “Nobody would stick around here. It’s a bad spot. Spooky. I don’t like it.”

“Scared of the woods?” the first man said.

But he must have pushed or yanked the women forward, pulled them to their feet. The three of them began to move. A scuffling of boots and leaves. The second man came into view. He glanced around for a moment. I saw him pause, peer up at the trees.

I turned my face from the edge. I lowered my head and squeezed my eyes like Jamey. A trick to make ourselves a small stone. Make our bodies inoffensive, forgettable, of too little consequence even to kick.

“It’s too quiet. Like the trees are watching me,” the man in the clearing said.

But he moved away, following the others.

“We are watching you. Freak,” Blue Mohawk said after a moment.

Mica shot him a look. She leaned off the edge of the deer stand to see that the men had gone for certain, then she turned back. “Emergency meeting,” she said.

No one was running. No one was clambering down the trees to follow the women, to confront the men, to ask them what the hell they were doing.

“Aren’t you going to go after them?” I asked.

“We’re going to have a meeting.”

“By the time you do that, they’ll be long gone.”

“We all know where they’re going,” Mica said.

That was it. No one on the platform raised their head to meet my eyes. No one spoke up for the women, not even Jamey.

“You can’t just let them kidnap those women,” I said.