As Leo outlined his plan, I found myself grudgingly impressed. The kid had a good head on his shoulders when it came to engineering. We incorporated his ideas into our design, and soon our raft was taking shape.
Fiona, for her part, turned out to be a whiz with knots. Her fingers flew as she secured our logs together, creating intricate patterns that looked both beautiful and functional.
"Where'd you learn to do that?" I asked, curiosity getting the better of me.
She shrugged, a hint of sadness flickering across her face. "My dad was a sailor. Before... well, before."
I nodded, not pressing further. We all had our stories, our reasons for being here.
As the hour drew to a close, I surveyed our handiwork with a critical eye. It wasn't pretty, but it looked seaworthy. More than I could
