Calliope’s face burned. He’d also seen her vomit and freeze when they’d needed her to be strong. He didn’t seem to notice. Instead, he reached out, placed his hand above her forehead, smoothed her hair at her widow’s peak.

“You have a bump?”

She resisted the urge to rest her check against his palm, to let him cradle her head in his hands. She pulled away, brushed her curls back over the place he’d just touched. “I’m fine.”

He cleared his throat, stepped back, curtly. “Good.” He handed her the map.

Calliope let go of Eunjoo’s hand and unfolded the map as the girl followed Amy to the campsite. A minute later Amy called out, her voice cavernous, muffled, “Hey, I found a tent. One of those two-family, double-­wides, the fancy kind they sell at REI and shit. I’ll bet there’s food.” Calliope smiled in spite of herself. She was growing fond of Amy. She’d landed them safely. There was much more to her than a college kid who danced, Calliope could tell. She made her way toward the camp, where Amy emerged with a bottle of Pepsi.

Calliope asked, “Amy, how’d you know how to fly a plane?” Amy rolled her eyes, opened the bottle and drank a large gulp, and Calliope guessed Amy would answer with her usual snark, so she added, “Why did you take flying lessons, I mean.”

Amy held the bottle against her chest, fingered the metal buttons on her faux leather jacket, and said, as if it pained her, “I’m a smart girl. Dirt poor, seen only for my body, but mostly, I’m smart. I got into this engineering charter high school, SAMS, you heard of it?”

Calliope shook her head.

“Southwest Aeronautics, Mathematics, and Science Academy. It’s a flight school too. I earned my pilot’s license when I graduated.”

“Why didn’t you go to an engineering college? MIT? Stanford?”

A flush of shame crossed Amy’s face, briefly, then dissipated into defiance, a fiery streak in her eyes. “I followed a guy to art school.”

Calliope understood regret well enough to recognize its mask. “A Renaissance woman.”

Amy raised her eyebrows, in a show of toughness or apathy. Then she shrugged and said, “Are we done with the fifth degree? Am I dismissed?” before turning on her heels and marching toward the fancy REI double-wide.

As she disappeared inside the mesh flap, Calliope called after her, “Hey, grab me a soda too.”

While Amy and Eunjoo dug through the tent, Calliope studied the map.

Chance had climbed atop one of the boulders and was looking toward the Gilas.