I think I’m in Shelter for a moment, that last night when I awoke to the sounds of Roger calling for his mate, Jeremy. I wish I’d been stronger then. That I’d convinced River not to leave, to hide with me at Falls until the men left. I don’t believe the cut on my leg would’ve hurt me there on Island. I’d had cuts and scrapes before, and they’d always healed with the sap of the aloe that grew on the other side of the body of water that shares River’s name and the salt water of Ocean. If River and I had stayed, we would’ve been just fine. The world would’ve still been perfect.“River,” I whisper now into the darkness, feeling for him with my hand. But when I don’t feel him, when he doesn’t answer right away, I get nervous, and I sit up. I see the arch of his back, a few paces in front of me: he’s perched by the edge of his shelter, staring out onto the beach. “River,” I say again, moving forward and putting my hand on his shoulder.“Shhh,” he whispers as he puts his hand on top of mine.
