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Her wheelchair makes it through the ditch and a few trees deep before it gets caught on a root. Adrik takes it upon himself to carry her, as well as the tent and the bag with the air mattresses in them.
Watching him tromp through the forest with my daughter and all of our gear like it’s nothing… it’s a sight to behold. It’s a cold night, but I might not need any blankets. I’m already feeling flushed.
We find a clearing that isn’t too far from the road but has a ring of bushes and shrubs to act as cover. “We’ll set up here,” Adrik says.
To my complete lack of surprise, he is effortlessly efficient with the tent setup. Eight minutes after we arrive, the tent is standing and the air mattress is inflated. Isabella eats one of the sandwiches I packed back at the safehouse and then lies down without a fight, exhausted from the day.
“Will you be here when I wake up, Mama?” she asks.
“Of course.” I smooth her hair back away from her face. “This tent is only big enough for you, so I’ll be sleeping outside. But if you say my name, I’ll be here in a second, okay?”
“And Adrik, too?” she asks.
Before I can answer, Adrik’s voice cuts through the thin material of the tent. “Adrik, too.”
Isabella smiles and closes her eyes, trusting that Adrik will take care of her like he said he would.
I wish I could feel the same way.
