“What?” Jessica whispered. She turned around in annoyance, her face falling. She dropped to her knees and crawled to the chest, where John had gone back to looking down at what lay inside. Charlie was curled up in the fetal position; she looked like she was sleeping, with a pillow under her head and blankets surrounding her. Her brown hair was a mess; her face was round; and she was wearing light gray sweatpants and a sweatshirt, both too large for her. John stared, his heart pounding so hard he could hear nothing but the rush of his own blood, not daring to hope, until: she took a breath, and then another. She’s alive. John reached down into the trunk and touched her cheek: it was too cool. His mind snapped out of its first shock. We have to get her out of here; she’s sick. He stood and reached awkwardly into the trunk, then gently, cautiously, lifted her out. He looked down at her in his arms, astonished, all his thoughts wordless, except, Charlie.

*  *  *

Don’t let me go—let go of me, what’s happening? Someone touched her cheek, a brief, startling spot of warmth. It was gone just as quickly, leaving her colder than before. Come back, she tried to say, but she could not remember how to make the words come out.

“Charlie.” That’s my name, someone is saying my name. Charlie tried to open her eyes. I know that voice. Someone’s arms reached down under her, lifting her from the cramped, dark place she’d been so long that memories of somewhere else seemed like dreams. She still couldn’t open her eyes. A woman said something. I know them. She couldn’t remember their names.

The first voice came again, it was a man’s voice, and she felt its reverberation as he pulled her against his chest, holding her like a child. Warmth radiated from him; he was solid and alive. Even standing still, he was filled with movement: She could hear his heartbeat, just beside her ear. I am alive. He said something else, and the rumble of it shook her whole body; the woman answered, and then she was jostled painfully. We’re going somewhere. She still couldn’t open her eyes.

“It’s gonna be okay, Charlie,” he whispered, and the sleeping world began to pull her down again. I want to stay! She began to panic, then as she slipped into unconsciousness again, she grabbed hold of the last words he’d said. It’s gonna be okay.

*  *  *

John clutched Charlie to his chest, then relaxed his grip anxiously, afraid of hurting her.

“How are we going to get her out?” Jessica whispered, and he glanced around the room. There was a window, but it was high and narrow: getting all three of them through it would take time.