Exhausted from the stress of the day, Ash’s eyes fluttered closed. Her phone buzzed. She jolted upright, reaching for it. Please be Nate. Please be Nate. She held her breath.

It was.

Relieved, Ash clicked on the message. A grainy video appeared on screen. Nate sat alone in his tent, guitar in hand, strumming lightly. “This song goes out to my girl,” he said with an overexaggerated twang. He began to sing, belting out Billy Ray Cyrus’s “Achy Breaky Heart.” Nate wasn’t big on country music, not like Ash, but he sang the hell out of the song. Ash laughed, watching the video two more times. No one could make her laugh like Nate.

Another message appeared on-screen. I’m a total fucking idiot. Of course the Tribe is important to me but so are you. Name the time and place and I’ll meet Becca. Dinner. Lunch. Brunch. Whatever you want, I’ll do it.

Ash blinked back tears, her heart soaring. She wondered if the last few hours were as miserable for him as they were for her. She glanced at the time. It was almost midnight. If she left now, she could see Nate, and make it home before Becca ever woke up. Ash texted back a heart emoji, wanting to surprise him, and hurried out of bed, quietly slipping on her jeans and sneakers.

Becca monitored Ash’s Uber usage, so Ash Googled the number of a cab company and scheduled a pickup. She pulled her hoodie back on and grabbed a fifty-dollar bill from her drawer, part of the money she’d received from Becca for her sixteenth birthday. She smoothed out the comforter, a force of habit, and tiptoed downstairs. Freud greeted Ash, nudging her with his wet nose. She plied him with treats to keep him quiet, and slipped out of the house undetected. Ash rushed down the street, relieved to see the cab already waiting for her.

She sank back into the seat, anxiously staring out the window, the empty streets zipping by. Fifteen minutes later, the driver pulled onto Alameda Street, a block from Nate’s campsite. Ash never came down here this late, knowing the dangers lurking in the shadows. Ash’s stomach fluttered, dozens of bodies lined up alongside the sidewalk, some in tents, others sleeping on the sidewalk. She quickened her pace. She would be safe with Nate. She always was.

She rounded the corner and spotted the Tribe’s camp. Despite the late hour, everyone was gathered in a semicircle outside Mo’s tent. She found Nate, standing on the outer edge of the group, his hands tucked in the pockets of his pants, his shoulders slightly hunched as he stood beside Leslie. Ash stepped off the curb. She was so focused on Nate she didn’t even see the first punch land. Eli’s guttural scream got her attention. She turned her head and watched as his nose shattered, blood pouring down his face. Eli gazed back at his attacker. Ash couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Vic towered over Eli, a sneering scowl on his face. She stood frozen, watching in horror as the others descended. Ash recognized Kelsey, and Andrea, but the rest were a blur of fists and legs. A mob on speed.