Calliope smiled at Amy’s exerted toughness, although she had a point. Why was her group normal, in whatever capacity anyone can be deemed normal, while other people, her dear Susana, were not? What differentiated them? Why were others irrational and violent, but Calliope and her companions immune? So far. Andres and Phoenix, at Tía’s hacienda, which camp did they fall into? She couldn’t imagine them singing pío, pío, pío in the dirt, hurting themselves or anyone else. She needed answers, and maybe Chance had some. “We’re searching for our families,” Calliope said. “Mine weren’t home … after that … red flash.” She hated saying it aloud.

“That small girl in the bushes too?” Chance asked. “She with you?”

“Eunjoo.” Calliope had forgotten in the chaos. “Come out, chica. He’s a friend.” Warning bells inside her. She didn’t know Chance. No better than she knew any of her traveling companions. How did she know he was a friend? Why had she let her guard down so easily?

Eunjoo crawled from the sagebrush, wiped the sand off her knees, and walked toward them. Before the girl got to the truck, Calliope realized all was not right. She couldn’t let Eunjoo see a dead man in a pool of blood. She rushed to the edge of the road and scooped Eunjoo into her arms, turning her toward the desert hills instead, the reddening sky.

“Do we leave the dead guy?” Amy asked.

“It’s not like there are police we can call. I haven’t seen the cops anywhere, have you?” Chance asked. No one answered. He continued, “Are you headed to El Paso then? You and your daughter?” He nodded to Eunjoo. “To your husband?”

“She’s not mine,” Calliope said quickly, then felt a pang like she’d betrayed the girl. Eunjoo was her responsibility—until she found her parents. “She’s my neighbor. We’re searching for her family too. Not in El Paso though.”

Chance’s eyes narrowed, hard-baked lines etched into his skin, questioning. She turned away, twirled one of Eunjoo’s shining black braids in her fingers. Amy had lit another cigarette, released the catch on the tailgate, and let her legs dangle while she smoked.

“I’ll go with you,” Chance said. “To keep you safe.”

“We’ve been doing fine without you,” Calliope said, her heart pounding.

“Yeah, Amy looked real fine on the ground.”

Calliope put a hand over Eunjoo’s ear, pressed the girl’s head against her shoulder, and made a hushing sound toward Chance.

“What?” he asked. “You think she didn’t hear the gunshot? Kids are smart.”

Calliope looked to Amy for support, but Amy shrugged. “I say let the cowboy nerd come. That asshole could’ve killed me. It wouldn’t hurt to have a hunter with us.”

Eunjoo leaned closer to Calliope, whispered, “That’s him.”

“Who?”

“The man from my dream.”