“We have to trust each other,” Mariana said. “That’s the only way through this.”
“Let her go,” Reyva said. “It doesn’t do any harm for her to at least make sure he’s okay.”
She hesitated a moment, not sure if she should try to explain or apologize or what. But she couldn’t think of what to say, and Reyva and Mariana were both shooting looks at each other that felt laden with an unspoken argument. She’d never meant to fight with either of them. She wished she could rewind and start over. If she had a do-over, she wouldn’t let herself get carried away by her imagination—call it what it is, she told herself,my paranoid anxiety.
Without saying anything more, Claire headed into the woods. She really did just want to see if he was okay, she told herself. She didn’t suspect Jack. He’d been nothing but helpful.And I’mrepaying him by spying on him, she thought.
I’ll apologize to him, and then I’ll explain to Reyva and Mariana. I’ll fix this.
But she still walked as lightly as she could over the pine needles and the moss.
His orange T-shirt was easy to spot through the trees. He was kneeling by a rock. Closer, she watched him from behind a tree trunk. He was setting a snare, exactly as he’d said he was going to do, tying it onto a branch so that it dangled over a fallen log.
Not talking to anyone.
Now she felt extra guilty.
She took a deep breath. She owed him this apology.
His bag was lying a few feet away, and it caught her eye. It occurred to her that he’d never really shared what was inside it.Stop it, she told herself. She’djustdecided that she wasn’t going to be suspicious anymore. Only together would they survive this. He’d already proved how valuable his knowledge was. She’d be making a massive mistake if she caused a rift now, when they were all learning to trust one another.
Claire stepped out from behind the trees and cleared her throat. “Hey.”
Jack jumped.
“Whoa, Claire! You scared me!”
“Sorry. Just...” She wished she hadn’t revealed herself and had just gone back to the fire after she saw he was okay. She was messing all of this up. “I owe you an apology.” She was going to go for it. Get it all out in the open so that they could move on.
“For what?” he asked.
“I thought you were talking to someone, earlier in the forest,” Claire said. “And it made me not trust you. But you’ve been nothing but helpful. Without you... we’d still be starving. Now, thanks to you, we’ve got food. We’ve got hope. So I just... wanted to say I’m sorry.”
“Cool. Um, okay. You didn’t really need to apologize. It must have sounded super suspicious.” He stood and crossed to her.
She laughed, awkwardly, at herself and at the fact that they were alone in the woods. “Yeah, well. I know you said you were just talking to yourself.”Why did I add “you said”?she asked herself.I don’t suspect him anymore.
“I was,” he insisted.
Behind him, she saw a bit of movement. She opened her mouth to shout a warning, then realized it was Reyva and Mariana. Reyva pointed to his bag. Mariana held a finger to her lips.
What were they—
Oh.
They believed me, she thought.
The idea made tears prick in her eyes. She was probably wrong. She was probably being paranoid and suspicious and anxious and all the things she hated about herself. But Reyva and Mariana were trusting her anyway, as they had from the day she’d met them.
She had to keep Jack’s attention on her, or there would be a lot more explaining to do.
“Then what were you talking about?” Claire asked. “Because it definitely sounded like you were talkingtosomeone else. I heard you say, ‘I can fix this. You have to trust me.’ Not exactlywhat someone talking to themself says. You can see why I was suspicious.”
He smiled at her and moved closer.
She resisted taking a step backward, reminding herself that she had to keep his attention on her, at least until Reyva and Mariana had the chance to check his bag.
“I was talking to myself,” Jack insisted. “I was telling myself to trust my feelings.” He took one of her hands. His fingers felt rough and dirty, and she was aware that hers were greasy with fish, dirt, and ash from touching the boards at the burned-down Lake House.
