“You can’t change the conditions.”

“We can’t say enough with one word. If we’re both allowed three, I can say, ‘How are you?’ And you can say, ‘I’m doing great.’ If you’re on the road, I can ask, ‘Where are you?’ And you can say, ‘I’m in Saskatchewan.’”

She laughed through her stuffy nose. “This all sounds very boring.”

“It’s not. I really want to know how you are.”

“My rule is no multiple texts. That would break the three-word limit.”

“Okay. No more than six words exchanged within twenty-four hours.”

“How long will we do this?”

“I don’t know. Let’s see how it goes.”

“And what will your girlfriend do when she sees you texting me?”

“Let me worry about that,” he said.

“If it worries you, we shouldn’t do it.”

“I hope you talk this much when you text.”

“I’ll only have three words.”

He kissed her cheek. “Goodbye, Ellis.” He got up and left the room abruptly, without making her take the medication.

She didn’t even have a chance to say goodbye. Like with Zane. And her mother. Viola.

The odds weren’t in favor of her seeing him again.

4

Dani followed her out to the car. “Please reconsider,” she said. “It’s only been a week. You need more time to recover.”

“I’m recovered,” Ellis said. “I feel fine.”

“Physically, you’re better. But that doesn’t mean you’re recovered. You still can’t even talk about it.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because you haven’t told me anything! Why did someone beat you up? Who was it? Did the police catch him?”

“Why would you need to know any of that? Why would you even want to?”

“Because I care! I’m your friend. I can help you.”

“I’m okay. I just need to get back to how everything was.”

“What, living in campgrounds by yourself?”

“Yes. I need the mountains. I’m going up to the Appalachians.”

“Ellis . . .”

“What?”

“You have to stop running away from what happened to Viola. You need to go back to your boys.”

“I need to get on the road.” Ellis gave her a hug that Dani didn’t reciprocate. “Thank you for letting me stay.”

“You can keep staying. We need a third roommate.”

“And what would I do here?” Ellis asked.

“Go back to school. If you can’t get into a UF grad program right away, you could get a job first.”

“Why do you assume grad school is what I want?”

“Because you said it was!”

“People change, Dani. I don’t intend this to be mean, but you don’t really know me now. And I don’t know you. I’ve been married, a mother of three, and divorced all while you’ve been in grad school.”

“So what? Have your dreams really changed so much?”

Ellis wouldn’t tell her the truth. She didn’t have dreams anymore. She had no idea what she wanted in her future. It had become a big blank. She didn’t know why or if that would change someday. Maybe she’d be like Caleb and wander all her life.

“I’d better go,” she said. “Thank you. And tell Brad thanks, too.”

Dani finally hugged her when she realized Ellis wasn’t going to stay. She had tears in her eyes.

“Come on! Why are you crying?”

“I’m afraid for you. I’m afraid I’ll never see you again.”

“Why would you think that?”

“Because no one knew where you were for a year and a half, and when you finally appeared, you looked like you’d nearly been killed!”

“Remember, if Jonah calls, don’t tell him any of that. Don’t say I was here. You promised.”

“Is that really all you care about right now?”

“Bye, Dani.”

Ellis drove away, leaving Dani on the lawn with her arms crossed. She wanted to put Florida behind her. Not that she’d hated her week in Gainesville. Dani and Brad had been welcoming, the city was a decent but typical college town, and the warm weather had been a nice change. But everything about Gainesville, Florida, reminded her of the reason she was there. And she wanted to forget that.

She had a long drive ahead to the Georgia campground. She looked at the clock. She shouldn’t have let Dani slow her down. She wouldn’t get there until twilight. Or past, if she ran into bad traffic.

That didn’t matter. She’d set up her tent in the dark often enough.

Ellis took a deep breath. And another. She didn’t understand the peculiar feeling in her head. Like it was full of humming bees. She felt dizzy. She shifted the car out of cruise control. A semitruck sidled up to her in the right lane. Too close. It was too close. She slowed down more, clenching the steering wheel with both hands.

Her lips were numb. Her whole face was. She took another deep breath but couldn’t get it all the way into her lungs. She tried again, but it seemed like her chest couldn’t expand wide enough. She needed more air.