Ryan
"You what?" Ana breathes. Her eyes are saucers.
I hadn't planned to tell her about the scene I found in the woods, but I also couldn't come up with an explanation for the firearms that would satisfy her.
"It was last week. I found a helicopter about fifteen miles from here. I think it's the one you came from. You had a bump on your head when I found you. Somehow you escaped the crash with just that injury and made it here."
Telling Ana this bold-faced lie is much harder than I would have expected it to be. I hate deceiving her. She deserves the truth. But if I've learned anything about Ana over the last three weeks, it's that she can't handle this truth. It's a blessing she doesn't remember the incident on her own.
"Why did it crash?" she asks.
"It's hard to tell. The news said
