He nodded. He followed behind her, firmly shutting the door behind him, and the smell of breakfast was intoxicating. He felt hollow inside, in more ways than one, and the idea of food to fill him up, after throwing up, after missing meals, with only candy and caffeine to tide him over, it made him almost delirious, his thoughts momentarily freed of the trap of thinking, not-thinking.

But thinking about the trap only brought her out again. She stood on the street, looking around, as he got into Erin’s dad’s car.

He took the boxes, opened his, and started eating immediately. “Thank you.”

“My mom’s a good cook,” she said. “I did the pancakes, because they’re easy. Made properly, not out of a box.”

“It’s the best thing I ever tasted,” he said.

As the car rolled down the dirt road, he could see the camp outside the window. People who were only just waking up, meeting in town to eat at the communal dining hall, or borrowing what they needed to harvest crops or do a day’s worth of building.

“So, silly story, bear with me.”

“Silly story sounds good.”

“My brother and I, we had a game we’d play a year or so ago, when we were new here and there wasn’t much to do. A series of codes and signals.”

Rain nodded. He worried he was too tired to process anything complicated, but Bryce was young.

“Some of it was so we were on the same page, and if our parents were being especially kooky we could touch our hair near the right ear. It was a good way to stay sane without making them upset or defensive.”

“Okay.”

“And the other sign, it was folded arms. We couldn’t do it all the time, or it’d be obvious, and we’d obviously have to change the subject.”

“I don’t follow. You’d cross your arms when—”

“Be careful when you eat the sausage, by the way. It’s handmade, but it has gristly bits in it that will do a number on your teeth. I swear they’re bone shards, they’re that tough,” Erin said.

Rain looked at her. He made the connection, realized what she was doing.

Mama Mathers was in the back seat, leaning forward, and Rain folded his arms.

“Yeah,” Erin said, with emphasis. “Exactly. It’s miserable, because my dad loves the things. I can’t mention it, you know. I haven’t been able to since we first arrived here and that was first dropped on my plate. He’ll get super defensive, and my mom keeps making them and giving them to Bryce and I.”

The rest was filler. Rain processed what Erin had intended to say, things he mostly knew.