He glanced down at Abigail, startled when she blinked up at him, her large gray eyes round as saucers. She was still lying where he’d placed her, so quiet he hadn’t realized she was awake.

“Hey, Abi-girl,” he said lightly, hoping she couldn’t feel his fear.

She yawned. “Can I talk now, Papa?”

He returned his attention to the road, forcing a smile. She’d been so brave, obeying every command he’d given. “You can. But I have to drive, okay?”

She perked up at that. “Drive? You’re driving?”

“I am. But I’d appreciate if you’d stay down for now. Just a little longer.” He had no idea who was watching. He knew he was being paranoid, but it was better safe than sorry at this point.

“Okay, Papa. But I’m hungry.” She hesitated. “And I need to use the potty.”

His panic returned. Where could they stop? And then he saw a sign he did recognize. Golden arches. His lips curved. Some things didn’t change. “I know a place.”

He took the next exit and pulled into the parking lot of the McDonald’s. “We’re not in Eden anymore, Abigail.”

She stared up at him with her old-soul eyes. Her mother’s eyes. “I know that, Papa.”

Amos chuckled, a tiny piece of fear dropping away. He was so lucky to have this child. “Of course you do. Well. This place is one my grandfather used to take me to.”

“Back in the olden days,” Abigail said sagely.

“Indeed,” Amos replied gravely. Then he smiled. “You ready for some breakfast?”

“I can get up now?”

He turned off the engine and pocketed the key. “Yes.” He held out his arms. “Want a ride?”

She sat up primly. “I’m seven, Papa. I can walk.”

“Of course you can.” He got out, shouldered his backpack, and then opened her door. “After you, my lady.”

She giggled. “Silly Papa.”

He held out his hand. “Even seven-year-old princesses hold their papas’ hands, okay?”

Abigail slid from the truck, landing on her feet with a bounce, then went still, staring. At everything. Cars raced by on their way to the highway. One honked and she squeaked a terrified whimper.

They were surrounded by buildings. No forests. The mountains were brown and small, not towering and snowcapped. Nothing looked familiar.

Abigail clutched at his hand, her bravado replaced with fear. “Papa?”

“It’s scary, I know,” he said softly. “Stay with me. It’ll be all right. I promise.”

He hoped. God, he hoped.

They crossed the parking lot, Abigail pressed close to his side. She was taking everything in, barely blinking. He opened the door to McDonald’s and gently tugged her inside. “The bathroom is this way.”

He took a moment to inhale. This was familiar. The aroma of breakfast. Of McDonald’s breakfast. They had a little food in his backpack, but he needed this. The connection. The anchor to something he actually understood. This had been his first job, flipping burgers at Mickey D’s, and this restaurant looked remarkably like the one he’d known before.