WE DON’T HAVE to walk far along the dark, quiet country road before we spot lights up ahead.

“Oh good, a gas station.” Jasper smiles when the sign finally comes into view. “Maybe there’ll be some nice couple with a baby who we can ask for a ride.”

Luckily, when we finally step inside it’s nothing like the Freshmart at the gas station where we met Lexi and Doug. This little store has five full aisles of gourmet food and a whole elaborate setup for fancy cheese, which is empty with a curtain drawn over it at this late hour. Above it, a wooden sign reads Nibbles. We are lucky that the store is open. It is not the kind of place that ordinarily would be at this hour.

“Do you still have the cash?” Jasper asks.

Right, money. I had totally forgotten about that little detail. I left Rachel’s phone back at Riel’s house, but luckily I do still have her money. I dig into my soaking-wet jeans and pull out a wet fold of twenties. I peel through, counting. At least three hundred dollars.

“Definitely enough for a cab and then the train back to Boston,” I say. “Maybe we should get some dry T-shirts, too.” I motion to a nearby stack of Cape Cod tees, then look down at my bare feet. “And some of those flip-flops.”

I can feel the young, suntanned kid behind the counter staring at us as he fingers his summer necklace, beads on a leather cord, hoping we’ll go before he has to make us comply with the Shoes Required sign.

“Are you sure?” Jasper asks.

“Well, I didn’t count all of the money, but I think—”

“I don’t mean the money,” he says. Then he looks over at the kid behind the counter, clearly listening. He puts a hand on my arm, then motions me outside.

We stand alone in the dark, empty parking lot, the only sound the buzz of the cicadas.

“Are you absolutely sure you want to go back to the hospital?” Jasper goes on. “You’re not obligated, you know. Leo was right: being an Outlier doesn’t mean that. You still have a choice. And I think you should choose looking out for yourself.”

“This is me choosing, Jasper,” I say, and for the first time, it actually feels like the truth. And it is such a relief.

Jasper nods and exhales—exhausted, scared. Resigned. And so loyal. “Okay then. It was worth a try.”

“You don’t have to go with me, though,” I add. “I mean it. I’m so grateful for everything you’ve done. But this—well, it’s a huge risk. I don’t want you to feel like you have to—”