Abigail was tugging at his hand. “Papa, I need to go.”

And then he realized she’d never experienced plumbing. He blew out a breath, trying to figure out what to do. She was scared enough without sending her into the ladies’ room by herself. Plus, the restaurant wasn’t full, but there were enough people inside. He wasn’t letting her out of his sight.

“Okay. This is going to be new for you,” he said, leading her to the men’s room. “Next time, maybe you’ll want to use that bathroom.” He pointed to the door with the outline of the woman. “But for today, you can stay with me.”

She nodded, saying nothing. She was trembling. Oh God. She was afraid. She’d been so brave during the worst part—that ride in the truck. But now she was afraid. He crouched down a few feet from the men’s room door so that he could meet her eyes. “It will be okay, Abi-girl. I promise.”

Her smile was shaky. “Okay, Papa.” Then she did the little dance that said she really needed to pee. “I need to go,” she whispered.

He led her into the men’s room, praying nobody else was there. Nobody was. He showed her the stall and she stared at the toilet. “Sit here,” he said, making sure it was clean first. “I’ll shut the door and you tell me when you’re done. When you close the door, push this little latch to lock it. There is paper on that roll, right there.”

Luckily, toilet paper was one of the few “modern” things they hadn’t been forced to give up in Eden. Amos wasn’t sure the women would have stayed, otherwise.

Not that any of them had much of a choice once they’d arrived. He swallowed the sigh, listening for Abigail’s progress. He heard the rip of paper and the rustle of clothing.

“I’m finished, Papa.” The door opened and she smiled up at him. “I can do it myself.”

He couldn’t stop his smile. “I know you can, but let me show you something.” Reaching around her, he flushed the toilet, chuckling when her eyes went round as saucers again.

She leaned over, peering into the toilet bowl. “Where does it go?”

“Into a big pipe, that goes to a . . .” How did he explain it? “A place that fixes the water so it can be used again.”

She looked up at him. “Can I do it?”

He laughed. I love you, Abigail. “Sure, but just once. We don’t waste water, even if they can fix it to use again.”

She nodded, then flushed the toilet, giggling with delight as the water rounded the bowl and disappeared. “Can I do that every time I pee?”

He laughed again. “Of course. Now let’s wash your hands and we’ll get something to eat.”

Abigail pointed to the urinal. “What’s that?”

Oh. “That’s . . . well, that’s for men who don’t need to sit down to pee.”

“They’re lucky.”