Ericka’s eyelids fluttered and she mumbled something that sounded like, “Just dizzy.” She rested her head on her outstretched arm and her eyes drifted closed.

“Ericka, what’s wrong? Did you hit your head?” Sero looked over her shoulder and spotted Jeremy a few rows behind her; she shouted for him to come over. He lifted Ericka’s tiny frame in his arms and carried her back up to the house, where he laid her on the couch and went to find the first aid kit. Sero got some orange juice from the fridge and brought a glass over. She tilted the glass to Ericka’s lips, but she shook her head. “Just have a sip,” Sero coaxed. “You’ll feel better. You must have low blood sugar or something.”

“No,” Ericka said, pushing the glass away so it splashed both of them. She hoisted herself up to a sitting position. “I’m fasting all day. That’s what I promised Micah.”

“What?” Sero said. “Ericka, you just passed out.”

“I’m fine,” Ericka said. “Just a little dehydrated. Maybe some water?” Sero returned to the kitchen and washed the sticky residue of juice from her hands, confused and angry. Jeremy bandaged the cut on Ericka’s forehead and Sero brought her a glass of water, which she drank down. “Thanks, guys.” Ericka smiled at them. “Go back out there. I’ll come soon.”

After Jeremy kissed Ericka on the forehead and left, Sero sat on the edge of the couch next to her. “You have low blood sugar, or low blood pressure, or something, Ericka. You really need to eat something.”

“I’m fine,” Ericka reassured her. “Just have to build up my strength. I need to be stronger for—”

“Micah wouldn’t want you to do this,” Sero said, cutting her off. “Want me to go ask him?”

“Not just for Micah. For the group.” Ericka gave Sero’s hand a limp squeeze.

Sero shook her head and returned to the kitchen, where she took out a loaf of bread and the new jar of unnatural peanut butter that didn’t belong in their pantry. She made a pile of sandwiches, left one on the table next to Ericka, who’d drifted off to sleep, and took the rest outside. As she returned to the fields, she heard low voices coming from the fruit grove. Glancing back over her shoulder, she saw Micah and Zoe, heads bent toward each other. Maybe they would be able to talk some sense into Ericka and get her to eat.

42 | Keith

May 5, 2015

Keith swirled the Barolo in the bulb of his wineglass and sipped. He nodded approval at the sommelier, who filled the rest of his glass and the one across the table where Jaya would be seated. Keith had taken the liberty of ordering the wine; she’d always deferred to him on this, and he needed a drink to calm his nerves before she arrived. He had to be careful not to have more than one glass, though; he had planned what to say and needed to stay sharp.