The sweet, crisp, yellow taste. Every piece of corn crunched, I guided them with my tongue, placed them between my front teeth, tried dividing them in two, before I pushed them farther back into my mouth and chewed properly.

We emptied the can slowly, in silence.

I fell asleep more quickly than usual. The corn stuck to my ribs. The sounds of everyone we shared this hall with disappeared—the hushed talking, the breathing, beds creaking, rummaging through bags and suitcases, snoring. Sleep took me away from all of it. I sank down into the water. It felt as if I would stay there a long time.

But something yanked me awake, almost immediately. Sounds pulled me to the surface. I fought back, wanting to remain down there. But the sounds grew louder, turning into screams.

I sat up in bed. Lou was still breathing calmly. Children can sleep through everything.

I pulled the sheet over her, stood up, and went outside.

Caleb was standing there, as vigilant as a bird. His arms were crossed over his chest.

“It’s him again,” he said. “That bastard from the north. Christian and Martin couldn’t stay away.”

A loud bang and somebody howling. Dark roars. And then Caleb also set off at a run.

“Wait,” I said.

But he ran to join the mob.

I stayed behind by the entrance to the hall. I wanted to run after him.

But Lou was lying inside there, alone. I couldn’t abandon her again. Couldn’t explain more bruises, blood, and Band-Aids to her.

And if she woke up, what if she came out?

The intensity of the racket increased, the screams growing louder. More people came running. I tried not to listen. Tried not to hear the swearing. The threats. Tents being knocked over. Clothing being torn, loud crashes from things being broken.

But it was my people who were being threatened.

Caleb, Martin, Christian.

My muscles tensed. My heart pounded. I had to protect them. Be among them. I owed them that. We’d already been in a fight together—it was my duty to participate.

I was about to start running. But then Marguerite was there. She arrived rapidly, short of breath. Appeared by my side.

She laid her hand on my arm—again she laid her hand on my arm.

At first I thought she was going to restrain me. But then I understood that she was afraid.

“They’re in my hall,” she said. “I can’t . . . I couldn’t stay there.”

I took her hand in mine and pulled her along with me. It had been so long since I had held hands with anyone except Lou. Her hand was so big. Even though she was thin, it filled my hand completely.

We stopped just inside the door to the hallway. She was breathing more easily but didn’t let go of me.