“Maybe I was,” said Tom, though he could easily guess that it hadn’t been the reporter exaggerating about him. “I had to save them, that was all.”

“It sounds to me that you were very brave. But you’ll need a different kind of bravery now.”

“I understand. Thank you.”

He left the study, feeling dejected, seeing now how easily his actions would be misinterpreted by the outside world, no doubt with the help of Joel and some of the others. He bumped into Alice, who’d clearly been looking for him.

“What is it?”

He shook his head dismissively, trying to downplay it as he said, “A reporter wanted to speak to me. About killing all those people at the cocaine factory.”

The anger was instant, and so powerful it looked for a moment that she might storm right out of the house to go looking for Joel. “I can’t believe it! What a stupid jerk!”

“We don’t know it was him.”

“If it was Chris, I’ll be even more furious.” She fixed her eyes on him. “What you did in that cocaine factory was the most heroic thing I’ve ever seen in my life. Don’t you forget that. They don’t get ownership of this.”

Tom nodded, and said, “Come on. I don’t want it to ruin the mood. We’re here. We made it.”

“Okay.” But she hesitated, then she hugged him and kissed him on the cheek, then held his face in her hands and kissed him for real before stepping back shyly.

“What was that for?”

“Just. Because.” Her forehead furrowed. “Why? Don’t you—?”

“Oh yeah.” He kissed her back and then they laughed as Perro barked from the neighboring room.

They went back in to join the others and told them that the reporter had wanted to speak to Tom. And even as he was still buzzing with the thought of that kiss, there was a nagging doubt in his mind, a fear that this might actually mark the beginning of the end of the friendships he’d made in the jungle.

He was sure they all saw it differently, but in Tom’s mind, this first hint of intrusion from the press told him everything he needed to know about the weeks and months to come. In the face of that barrage, it was hard to believe these bonds could ever survive the return to their normal lives.

He didn’t want it that way, of course, but he could so easily believe that he’d be no more a part of their lives in the coming year than he had in the previous one. It didn’t matter what Alice said—Tom would always be that person, not the one who’d saved, but the one who’d killed, who’d been out of control, the one people whispered about, pointed at, the one who caused rooms to fall into silence.