“No, Caleb.”
Her voice was dry and thin.
“You stay here.”
But he looked at her skin, damp and gray beneath the heat.
He looked at the road where nobody stopped.
He looked at the horizon where there was nothing but more sun and more distance.
“I’ll be right back,” he said.
It was the first lie he had told her that day.
Seven miles was longer than Caleb knew how to imagine until he walked it.
The gas can was empty, but the handle cut into his fingers.
Heat came up through the soles of his shoes until each step felt like he was walking across a stove.