TWENTY-2
Bess had known something was wrong when Devon cried over the milkshake she’d been surprised with before departure. Devon didn’t know why she’d cried and Bess didn’t ask. The tears threatened again as she sat next to Zave in the helicopter with the island receding behind them. They were alone, but they hadn’t spoken a word. She didn’t expect much conversation while he was focused on flying. He was capable and sure and she didn’t feel unsafe for one second, even though she was hanging in a metal bubble over a vast, choppy sea. The bustling activity on land looked odd. For the first time in months, she saw cars and people. Even though the sound was indecipherable beyond the noise of the rotors, she could imagine what it was like to be on the streets down there. Devon didn’t relish the idea
- Writer
