Chapter 11Kenya, Africa
1982
“I can’t move,” Daniel muttered. “Seriously, my legs don’t work. I would worry that they were gone, but they’re aching too much.”
Carol laughed lightly. “Tomorrow is Sunday. You can sleep all day, if you want.”
“No, I can’t. By seven it’ll be too hot to stay in bed. And loud. I think I’m being eaten alive.”
Carol sat up and straightened the mosquito netting. “Better?”
He grunted. “It barely works.”
He tried to straighten his legs, turning over on his side to face Carol. She looked as exhausted as he felt, but he was loath to go to sleep. The quiet hours they spent together after dark were precious to him—the sooner he fell asleep, the sooner he lost them.
“I can’t believe we’re leaving at the end of the week,” she whispered.
“I can’t believe we’ve been
