Dawn
A cold, stone floor greets me when I wake.
“I need to see Jonathan,” Allison is saying to the guard.
“He"ll be here shortly,” the guard responds. Allison isn"t satisfied. We wait all morning until he comes, trying to suss out what to say to him. The door opens and in he walks.
“Jonathan,” Allison says, relieved.
“Sorry for the rough treatment, but we had to check out your story that you"ve been operating as a rebel spy. It"s not often my men see a bunch of Texans drive right up to our front door.
“No problem, sir,” she says.
From a dark corner, Drew emerges and walks towards the commander. “James?” he utters in disbelief. “James?”
“Hello, Drew,” the commander says as their eyes meet.
“Wait a second,” I say, “Jonathan Clarke is-”
“James,” Drew finishes my sentence.
“Your bro
