Duke grew quiet, even stoic. So much so that I fell back a little and matched my steps with his, walking at his side. He glanced at me and I offered him a small smile. He reached out and threaded our hands together, holding tightly to me. I didn’t pull away. I couldn’t. I realized I needed the reassurance just as much as he seemed to. Up ahead the trees seemed to part, giving way to the beach, and I could hear the waves crashing onto the shore just ahead. We all slowed, creeping to the side and behind a large fern, ducking behind the leaves. Nash turned to look at me, his eyes going right to me. Duke joined our hands. He didn’t say anything, but the skin around his mouth tightened. “I’m going to go closer,” Nash whispered. “Stay here.” “Wait,” I whisper-yelled. He turned back. “If you hear gunshots, run.
