26. My soul understands him better than it does me.
Willa.
Reid has a fever again and is coughing, still lying against me.
I wrap my arms around him, and tears start sliding down my cheeks, falling into his hair.
I’m scared.
I’m really, really scared.
“Don’t cry,” he says with difficulty, holding my arm around him.
“I’m not crying,” I whisper, stroking him.
He laughs, but his laughter is cut off by a cough.
I stifle a sob, holding him tighter.
God, it feels like I’m at my lowest point and his life is slipping through my fingers. They left us here, in the middle of nowhere, with no one to turn to. The rain has passed, and the sun has been out for a while, but not a soul has appeared. We’re alone. Even worse, I feel like I’m becoming alone.
Reid lifts his face slightly, trying to
