As if reading Mara’s mind, Ashley took her hand and stood, pulling her up, and glared at the camera when it followed. “Give us a ladies’ room break,” she said. “You know us girls. Gotta pee in groups.” The camera backed off.

In the newly lush woods, they did not have to go far to lose the crew.

“Mara,” Ashley said once they were alone. “I’ve been wanting to ask for your help with something.”

“Of course.”

She took a breath. “You know why I’m here, right?”

Mara knew. To be famous. To succeed.

“Right, yeah. Exactly. I need the show to mean something for me. But I feel like I can see how the story’s going. There’s Bullfrog building a whole palace, and there’s Kyle the scout, and you’re gathering plants and feeding us, and all of those things are interesting, you know? And all day long, I’m boiling water.”

“Do you want me to boil water?” Mara felt awful. She never knew that Ashley cared, and she blamed herself for not realizing. She should have asked. “I can do it. I don’t mind. You can do whatever you want.”

“That’s the thing,” said Ashley. “There’s nothing I want to do. There’s nothing I know how to do. I mean, I climbed that mountain. At least that was something. But it was just one day.”

Mara couldn’t tell what she was getting at.

“I’m scared that after all this,” Ashley said, “when the show airs, I’ll just be in the background. And the guys will get the glory. Like guys always do. It’s like that dude, Kyle’s hero. He died, and his girlfriend survived, right? But he’s the one you hear about.”

“You’re thinking about someone else,” Mara said, but Ashley shook her head to hush her, and she realized it didn’t matter, because Ashley was right even if she was wrong.

“So I was thinking,” said Ashley. “I was thinking maybe you and I could do our own thing. If you want to. If we came up with our own project together. I know you don’t love the cameras, and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, but I think—I think the audience would love it. Girls versus guys. I’ll still boil water,” she added quickly. “I’m not trying to get out of that. I just want to do something more. And you’re the best one here.”

She was still holding Mara’s hand. Her voice low, and their faces close together. She thought Mara was the best one here.

“Okay,” said Mara. And then, “Yes.”

Ashley squealed and hugged her tight. She smelled like woodsmoke. A camera was creeping toward them through the leaves, but Mara didn’t care.

“I was thinking a fish trap,” said Ashley. “One of those woven baskets. I’ve seen them on TV, and we have the lake, you know?”

“They’re not that great,” Mara said.

“Are you sure? How do you know?”

Mara and Ethan had built a basket trap a few summers back. It was perfect—narrow and taut, baited with leeches. They put it in a river full of trout. The water so clear they could sit and watch. But each time a fish swam in, it swam out again. You might get lucky, pull up the trap while a fish was in there, but you couldn’t count on your food to stay contained.