All I hear is Astrid’s quiet breathing. I sit with my back against the door and she curls beside me, head on my chest, arms tucked between us. Through the opposite window I watch the pop-up trailer. The Kelseys spread two zipped-together sleeping bags in the bed of their truck and have not moved in hours.Astrid barely woke as I lifted her from the chair at their camp and helped her back to our car. We climbed into our makeshift bed and Astrid huddled against me, asleep again immediately. Sometimes she smiles and her lips move as if she speaks in her dreams. Her fingers tense and relax against my T-shirt with every new dream. Part of me wishes to shake her awake and tell her everything. But I think, What if it isn’t true? What if they’re mad, or fanatical? Selfishly, I don’t want to risk ruining her peaceful sleep, or the way her soft hair tickles my neck. So instead of confessing, here I wait.Tonight I have no desire to sleep. I never even close my eyes, but keep watch out the wide windows to make certain the Kelseys don’t vanish in the night, don’t take their wild story with them.And if they are being truthful, if Baldur sleeps in the dark of their pop-up trailer, I must be ready.I cannot miss the moment when he will emerge to face the sunrise.The moment there is a first sign of light in the east, I whisper Astrid’s name against her hair.
