Marley, Marley, Marley. What are you doing? I wondered as I picked it up. One corner was wet from my shoe, but it was otherwise unscathed.

“You found it,” Harrison whispered in awe. He wrapped his arms around me. “Thank you.”

I had no idea the last time we’d so much as brushed shoulders, let alone hugged. It was strange to let his gratitude envelop me. It made me feel unsteady. I didn’t want to give in and hold him too tight, but I didn’t want to push back either. There was no reason to perform with my head pressed into his chest.

I pulled back and tried to return his letter. My sweaty palm had softened the paper, dulling the dry edges and bleeding the ink where my shoe had dampened the corner.

Harrison pushed the letter away. “Will you hold on to it for me until we get outside? I don’t want it to fall out again.”

I tucked it deep into the front pocket of my shorts.

We kept walking. With each new step, the smell worsened and the tunnel darkened. Even with Harrison’s cell phone light as a guide, there was nothing to see. We walked side by side for fear of separating. We didn’t speak. We couldn’t. Opening our mouths and taking in the air seemed hazardous. I clutched onto his shirt. The muscles in his arms pressed up through the fabric. The sturdiness of him was a comfort.

I couldn’t see that there was something sticking up a few paces ahead.

When I reached whatever it was, I tripped. Stumbling toward the ground, my hand wrapped around his shirt, Harrison went down with me. Our faces splashed into liquid. We bolted upright, spitting and spitting to eliminate the tangy taste of whatever lay on the ground. Thicker liquid trickled down my nose and flirted with my lips. Blood, I recognized. I did my best to snuff it out, pinching my nostrils with one hand, wiping my face with the other, still spitting. My bottom was wet with whatever I sat in, seeping through the denim of my shorts.

Harrison’s spitting took up more weight. He’d begun throwing up, and through unexpected fortune, managed to do it without splashing me. I settled into my misery until it became unbearable, knowing I could turn it into motivation. If finding his letter was a gift from Marley, this was a punishment.

“Come on. Get up.” I patted to my left until I found Harrison and yanked him up alongside me. “We can’t stay here.” He was so much taller than me that my arm started burning, but I didn’t dare release, needing the touch to assure me he wouldn’t leave.

“Do you still have my letter?”

I patted my pocket. “It’s here.”