It was hard to tell what kind it was, but I thought I tasted mint. It didn’t matter, though. The tea was warm, and it did help stave off hunger. When I finished, I returned the cup. He filled it with the rest of the tea.

“We have enough water for another cup at breakfast.”

James sipped his tea. Within no time, the stars began showing themselves. I was surprised by how quickly night found us, chasing away the warmer temperatures of the day. A few minutes later, he balanced the empty tin cup upside down on top of the teapot.

“Time to get things settled for the night,” he said, giving me a tentative smile. “Are you good with the way it worked last night?”

I nodded. Very good.

I pulled the trash liner out of my bag. “This might keep the dampness off the bottom of the mat.”

James helped me spread the liner on the ground, then added the mat. Just as we had done the night before, I lay closest to the fire, cocooned in my blanket. James was in his own. I was weary from the long hike, but didn’t want to bring an end to what might be our last night together for a while.

I gazed up at the clear sky. “Do they have names?” I asked. “The stars, I mean.”

“Not like the ones in your world. We don’t have constellations. But every person in Judaculla has a star named after them.”

“Where’s yours?” I asked.

James searched the sky. “That’s my dad’s,” he said, pointing to one of the countless pinpricks of light. “Mine is the one a little above and to the right of his.”

I peered toward where James pointed, but was unable to distinguish his from the others in the black sky.

“See that cluster there?” he asked. “The one shaped like a candy cane?”

“Yeah,” I said, barely making out the shape.

“My star is the one on the left at the bottom. It’s close to the base of the candy cane.”

I smiled as my eyes found his star. “I see it.”

Staring up at a star that had waited a thousand years to take James’s name, gave me hope he would also persevere. The star shone brightly, as if trying to stand apart from the millions of other tiny dots in the sky. I studied James’s profile as he continued staring at the stars.

Hang in there, James. I thought. We’ll get through this.

“I can’t show you my mother’s star,” he said. “It used to be right beside my father’s. It was tiny, but a very bright star.”

“What happened to her?”