Rosalind
I refuse to cry. I refuse to give Orlando the benefit of seeing me weak.
"Fine then," I say, as we stare at the last of the hot embers. "We can make this work. We'll keep the fire going at night, of course, but we'll start to make our situation more livable. I'll be in charge."
"You'll be in charge?" Orlando repeats, incredulously. "How do you figure that?"
"I'm very competent."
"You can't swim, and you can't make a fire," he points out.
"Yes, but I can tell you when to swim and when to make a fire."
Orlando furrows his brow. "I sense a flaw in this plan."
I stand and dust the sand off me. "Believe me, this is the best for the both of us. You don't know what you're doing."
"I don't know what I'm doing."
"I just said that," I say.
"I was just repeating it, making sure I
