The pencil’s tip broke, and I flinched, looking down at the drawing in my lap. There was a big, bold line in the middle of it where I had pressed the pencil and it slipped. This was the third time today I got distracted and broke it by using too much force. I couldn’t even focus on the only thing that was keeping me sane.
How much longer did I have? How much more time did Caleb and the others need? Did they have trouble finding me, or was it that they couldn’t match the numbers of my father’s pack? Had they given up? Were they even alive? I wondered if anyone would even tell me if they had attacked and died trying to save me. Surely my father wouldn’t miss that opportunity to gloat.
No, they should all be alive and well if I had heard nothing.
But how mu
