Travelling with Scott and Wade, we drive for a while, but as night falls, Scott pulls the car into a motel along the highway.
“Rebels patrol this area,” he explains. “We’ll draw too much suspicion driving straight through the night.”
No one argues, so we rent two rooms for the night. Wade and Scott occupy the one, while Caleb and I head toward the other.
Our room is quaint, with one double-size bed and an old boxy television set. There’s no shower curtain around the tub in the bathroom, but everything else seems to be there: toilet, sink, towels, toilet paper. So I decide not to complain.
Caleb has been quiet since the diner. I’ve been worried about him all day, hoping that he would finally speak to me now that we are alone. Instead, he fiddles with the television, turning on the loca
