Cane's POV
Walking hurt. Everything hurt. My legs felt like wood. Stephanie was leaning on me, and I could feel her trying not to put her full weight on me. She was failing. We were both stumbling through this scrubby pine forest, wet clothes sticking to us, crusted with salt. Every step was a question: where were we?
The hope from the beach was gone. It had been eaten up by the walking. We had been walking for hours. The sun was high and mean.
My stomach was a hollow, angry knot. Stephanie hadn't said a word about being hungry, but I saw the way she touched her belly, a quick, worried pat. She was eating for two. And we had nothing.
