CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
I let Margot lead. "I’ll follow your pace," I told her. "I don’t want you to go faster than you feel comfortable."
At first her pace was snail-slow; no surprise. Another gust of wind hit us, and Margot froze and then winced. She seemed to be trying to dig her fingers into the cliff face on her right side, but there was something wrong.
"Margot? Are you okay?"
"Yeah. My right shoulder’s a little sore. I landed on it." She moved forward again.
It took us considerably longer to retrace our steps along the ledge than it had taken to get to where Margot had fallen.
As soon as we were clear of the dangerous part of the trail, Margot nearly collapsed onto a grassy spot and sat with folded arms on her bent knees, breathing hard. She bent her head forward. I sat beside her, s
