"Hi." She smiled at him. "You're from the conference, right?"

"Right." He smiled back at her and checked out her short skirt and pretty face.

"Are you here for the conference? I'm here to pick up Dr. Smolka, but we could fit one more. I'm sure he wouldn't mind sharing the car with you."

"I'm with Regal Hotel management. There's been some kind of screw up. They need you back there."

"Come on! Why?"

"Another assignment." She shrugged. "I don't know. I just follow instructions like you." She smiled at him again but he didn't smile back.

"That's stupid! I'm already here! I've been here for half an hour! If I leave now, I don't get a tip for the fare."

"Hey, don't tell me. I just go where they send me. Besides, I heard these foreign doctors are pretty tight when it comes to tipping." She held out her hand for the all- important welcome sign. "Dr. Smolka, you say?"

"Yeah." He glanced around. "I'm not taking this crap from them. You stand here. I'm going to call the hotel. They can't just push us around like this!"

She smiled and nodded her head. "You tell `em! I won't let Dr. Smolka get away."

He handed her the sign and stalked off, looking for a pay phone.

Robbie Jo Connor marshaled her forces as carefully as any general before a major battle. She knew what time Dr. Smolka's plane was landing at the Atlanta airport. She had his picture in her pocket. She was standing at the exit where he would have to get off the plane from New York. She was holding the sign with his name on it.

The plane had already landed. The passengers were beginning to straggle off the wide body jet. She glanced around nervously, hoping the other driver had plenty to say to the person at the other end of the phone before he realized his mistake. Hurry! She urged her prey, looking at the people's faces as they disembarked.

She spotted him as he walked up the ramp. She'd brought his picture in case she couldn't identify him but she had memorized his face from magazine articles.

Dr. Alexei Smolka had a thick head of dark hair that he wore a little longer than was fashionable and an arresting, angular face. He was tall and had broad shoulders, even though he was very thin. He looked a little frail but it was probably just his height with his thin frame. His face was pale and his vivid blue eyes were keen. She suffered a momentary twinge of guilt for what she was about to do but it passed quickly. She wasn't about to abandon her plan.

Robbie Jo watched him remove his wire-rimmed glasses and put them in his pocket. His magazine photos hadn't done him justice, she realized. Or she hadn't really noticed. He was a very handsome man. He had the look of a brooding, dark prince who came from some Carpathian castle. Without his white coat and the clinical background, he could almost be a cover model for a romance book.

She shook her head at the fantasy but it had already lodged in her brain somewhere and refused to leave her entirely. He carried a travel bag across his shoulder and held a book in one hand. She could tell from the way he refocused his gaze that he had been absorbed in it on the plane. He had begun to search the waiting crowd for his ride. Robbie Jo took a deep breath, straightened her short skirt, and walked boldly towards him.

"Dr. Smolka?" she inquired politely with what she hoped was a dazzling, trustworthy smile on her face.

He looked at her, equally polite, but his smile was a little less forthcoming. "Yes. Are you from the conference?"

Robbie's smile became bigger to compensate. "That's right. Do you have any other luggage?"

"Just one bag," he replied quietly. He followed her, as she started moving through the crowd. "Shall I pick it up now or will it be sent to the hotel?"

Out of the corner of her eye, Robbie caught the angry face of the driver she'd sent away. Beside him were two, large security guards. They were all standing at the side of the crowd coming from the plane, searching people's faces as they walked by them. She knew they were looking for her.

Damn! Robbie took Dr. Smolka's arm to hurry him through the gate area. "We're running a little late, Doctor," she explained, stepping up the pace. "If you could walk a little faster?"

Dr. Smolka looked down at her hand on his arm. "The conference doesn't start until tomorrow," he replied in his heavily accented English. "How late can we be?"

"We're not late for the conference, of course," she attempted to pacify him without slowing her footsteps. "We're late--with the car. The conference has to send the car out for other visitors."

"Of course," he agreed, shifting his bag to accommodate their near running mode. "I'm grateful that they could send a car at all."

"This way, Doctor." She tugged at his arm, veering them away from the driver and security guards who had spotted them and begun to pursue.

"Wait!" the real driver yelled, seeing them. "Dr. Smolka!"

"Did someone call my name?" Alexei asked, starting to look around them.

"No," she replied, tugging at him harder. They were almost at the outside doors. It was just a few more steps. Robbie was double parked in a loading zone. She knew she'd be ticketed but she wouldn't have to go out into the parking lot and look for her vehicle.

"I believe those men are pursuing us," Alexei told her, noticing the three men who seemed to be chasing them. He stopped and turned to face them.

"No way," she reassured him breathlessly, tugging at his arm to get him going again. "They're probably chasing a purse snatcher. Or a bomb suspect. I heard there was a bomb here earlier."

"A bomb?" he asked incredulously. "Why haven't they evacuated the airport?"

"They're trying but the crowd is going to go wild. Panic, you know. That's why we have to get out before it happens."

"And my bag?" he asked.

"The hotel will pick it up later. When the bomb threat is over," she answered, hoping her lungs wouldn't burst before they got away. "Please hurry!"

"They have excellent service," he commented. "I hope the bomb doesn't explode."

Robbie pointed to the left. "There we are, Doctor. Just another minute and we'll be on our way."

Dr. Smolka frowned when he saw the vehicle the conference had sent for him. It was a nearly demolished red pick up truck with a stone hole in the front window and a KISS sticker on the side. "This is what the conference sent for me?"

Robbie took his bag from him and pushed it on the seat. "There are so many people attending the conference," she lied smoothly. "They had to do the best they could."

He continued to frown and stare at the decrepit truck. He was noticing the length of rope and the scattered pieces of shingle in the bed. Robbie looked back and saw that the real driver and the two security guards had made it through the doors and were looking for them.

"What is this piece of paper?" Dr. Smolka asked, picking up the parking ticket that he found on the window under the wiper.

"They-uh-give me that to park here," she told him, looking at the three men still standing by the doors. "Doctor, please! I'm going to lose my job if we're late."

He smiled at her and nodded. "Of course. I'm sorry to be a bother." He pushed himself into the pick up and closed the door. "It was kind of the conference to send what they had for me."

Robbie climbed in the driver's side and slammed the door after her. The sound seemed to catch the attention of the three men in the exit area. They turned and pointed, running towards the truck as they shouted at them.

"There are those men again," Alexei said, staring at them as Robbie started the truck's engine and pulled smoothly out into traffic.

"They're too late," Robbie told him triumphantly.

"Too late?" he wondered.

Robbie smiled at him. "They lost the purse snatcher, I'm afraid. I hope they do a better job finding the bomb. Sit back, Doctor. It's a long ride to the hotel."

Robbie knew she was lucky that Dr. Smolka had just arrived in the U.S. from Croatia a few weeks earlier. He didn't know a lot about American ways yet. Certainly no American doctor would have gone along with getting in a ten-year-old pick up truck with three men chasing after him. He might have even asked for ID. She'd been prepared for that chance. She'd even been prepared to pretend that she was carrying a gun in her pocket, if necessary. One way or another, Dr. Smolka was going with her!

She knew that Alexei Smolka was from Croatia and a few personal things about him. They'd written those things in the magazine articles. She knew that he'd perfected a new surgical technique in Croatia but that the U.S. government was sponsoring trials for it. The technique actually restored the hearing of children who were born deaf.

"We seem to be heading out of the city," Dr. Smolka observed as they left behind the tall buildings and city congestion.

Robbie turned the truck on the Interstate. "It's a ways out, Doctor. They thought you might like the fresh air and green grass."

Alexei Smolka studied the woman who sat behind the wheel of the truck. She drove like a demon, her eyes constantly going to her rearview mirror. He wasn't sure how he knew, but he knew that she was lying. "What is your name?"

She glanced at him. "Robbie Jo. Robbie is fine."

He looked at the road ahead. "I am Alexei. Where are we going?"

Robbie's smile never wavered. "To the hotel."

"What hotel?"

The one you're staying at," she responded carefully.

"And the name?"

"The Regal. Relax, Doctor. I know where I'm going."

Alexei nodded. "I am certain you do. But I think you should take me to the hotel."

Robbie's smile faded. She held her hands tightly on the steering wheel and put her foot down harder on the accelerator. She'd been hoping he wouldn't notice for a little while longer. They weren't even to the state line yet. "I'm sorry, Doctor. I can't do that."

Alexei frowned, not sure if he should be alarmed or not. It seemed difficult to believe that this slip of a girl was kidnapping him. Yet hadn't he known women in his own country who had been dedicated enough to a cause to do whatever was necessary to further it? During the war, there had been as many women as men who had participated in the bloodshed. It was old-fashioned of him to think any woman was incapable of violence because she was a woman.

He studied the lovely young woman who had just kidnapped him. Years of living through war in his own country and dealing with unusual circumstances to stay alive held him in good stead. He didn't panic. He didn't try to push her. Instead, he watched and waited for the right moment.

"Where are you taking me, Robbie?"

She didn't look at him. "I'm taking you home with me."

Alexei smiled. "It's a novel approach but surely we could have had coffee first?"

She smiled and looked at him. "You're very good looking, Dr. Smolka. I'm sure you know that. But I'm taking you home for Rickey, not for me."

"Rickey?" He puzzled over the name. If this woman was dedicated to a cause and in the thrall of some man, she was doubly dangerous. But what could they want from him?

"I apologize for doing it this way but I tried to get in to see you and I could tell that wasn't going to work."

"You tried to see me in New York?"

"No, I tried to get an appointment to see you while you were in Atlanta. Your secretary said you weren't seeing anyone while you were at the conference."

"That's true," he agreed. "I'm here to teach, not to be a celebrity."

Robbie urged the truck past a car on the road. They were only a few miles from the state line. She checked the rear mirror for police or speeding security forces closing in on her. There was only a tanker truck and a Cadillac convertible.

"I only need you to meet Rickey and hear our story and then if you decide you won't help." She shrugged. "You won't help."

"And you'll take me to the hotel?"

She nodded. "I'll take you to the hotel."

He nodded. "All right. Then I'm listening."

She shook her head. "I'd rather not tell you until you meet Rickey. I could have explained the whole thing to you in Atlanta but I wanted you to meet him first."

"Why not bring him with you?"

"Because I wasn't sure how this would turn out and I didn't want him to be here if it went bad. We're only about a hundred miles from Atlanta, only two hours. It shouldn't take long for you to get there and get back. You said yourself, the conference doesn't start until tomorrow."

A mistake on his part, Alexei decided. Soft living in luxury hotels with drivers and attendants had made him give too much away. Robbie seemed innocuous enough but she had kidnapped him and planned to elude the police, without her lover, Rickey, getting the blame for any of it. He would not do or say anything to help her again.

"That's true but there are people who will be looking for me when I'm not delivered to the hotel."

"Actually," she began with a wry smile, "they're already looking for you. I sent the driver who was supposed to pick you up on a wild goose chase. Those three men who were yelling and following us will have called the police by now. We may not make it back to Flattsboro."

"That's where Rickey is?" he questioned. "In Flattsboro?"

"Yes."

"Wouldn't it have been simpler to have him meet us somewhere closer to Atlanta?"

"It might have been," she agreed. "But I didn't want anyone else to know about this. That way, if I am caught or if you decide to press charges against me, there's only me to blame."

"You've thought it out very carefully," he conceded. "And you're right, there will be consequences to pay for this action. I hope it's worth it to you. Perhaps you shouldn't have let Rickey influence you so much."

Robbie took an exit off the Interstate. "You don't understand."

"Just so," he admitted. "You have kidnapped me and purposely not told me why."

Robbie pulled the truck off on a two-lane, back country road. Trees grew thickly along the sides and the road was free of traffic. It was easy for Alexei to understand that she thought the back roads would be safer. They would be harder for the police to track. He realized that it also gave him an opportunity that might not come again.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I couldn't figure out any other way to do it. And when you meet Rickey, you'll understand."

"I don't think I will understand your desire to please this man that could lead you to prison."

"Man?" Robbie asked with a short laugh. "But Rickey is just--"

When she looked away from him and pressed on the brake to avoid hitting a squirrel that ran across the road, Alexei made his move. He leaned close to her and put his hands on the steering wheel, trying to take control of the truck from her.

"You're going to kill us both!" she yelled, trying to keep the truck on the road. Her foot slipped across the gas pedal and the truck leapt convulsively forward. "Let go!

"Did you think I'd just sit here and let you take me to your lover?"

"Lover?" she squealed. She looked into his face that was so close to hers. "Rickey's my son!"

"Your son?"

The truck hit the thick gravel at the side of the road and the wheels flew off the pavement. They tried to bring the truck back on the road but it was no use. It careened off into the swamp and hit a tree. The engine died out and the front wheels spun above the ground but at least they had stopped.

Robbie had hit her head against the dash and it hurt like hell. She looked at Alexei, prepared to lash out at him for making them wreck her truck but he was unconscious against the seat. When she looked at his white face and the trace of blood on his head, she groaned and cursed out loud. Then she passed out next to him.

When she awakened sometime later, it was dark. She glanced down at the lighted face on her watch but it was cracked. It had stopped at three thirty. She looked out at the face of the moon in the black sky and knew it was well into the night.

Alexei still lay slumped on the seat next to her. Her head throbbed painfully but she managed to rummage under the seat and find her flashlight. She looked at her reflection in the cracked rearview mirror and saw that her head had been bleeding. The blood was dry. She touched it gingerly but it didn't start up again. It didn't look like she needed stitches. She wasn't sure about Doctor Smolka.

"You've done it this time, Robbie," she muttered under her breath, releasing herself from the seatbelt. "Of all the damn fool things to do!"

What if she had killed him? She had a feeling that no judge or jury would find her innocent. He had been trying to escape because she was trying to kidnap him! He thought she was taking him to her lover, for some reason. She knew some of what he'd been through in Croatia. She shuddered to consider what he'd been thinking.

"Should've thought of that a little sooner," she chastised herself.

She shined the flashlight into his face. His eyes were still closed but the cut on his head had stopped bleeding. She felt for the pulse in his neck and gasped when she didn't feel anything. He was dead.

"The pulse is here," he told her, taking her hand in his and holding it to his neck.

"Oh." She felt his blood course through his vein. His neck was warm beneath her fingers while she stayed there with his hand on hers against his throat. "I'm so glad you're not dead."

He sat up, groaning as he put his hand to his head. "I'm so happy to please you."

"Does it hurt?" she asked, starting to put her hand to his forehead.

"Of course it hurts," he replied angrily. "Let me see the flashlight."

She gave it to him and he shined the light into his face, examining his head in the mirror. The cut was superficial but he probably had a slight concussion. He had been unconscious for some time, according to the change from day to night.

"Where are we?" he asked her.

"I'm not sure," she admitted. "Probably about three miles from my home."

"Flattsville?"

"Flattsboro," she corrected him.

"Whatever." He shone the light at her. "You're injured as well?"

"Yes," she admitted. "My head hurts."

"Good!" he told her calmly, shutting off the light. "You deserve far worse for this insane act!"

Robbie watched as he leaned back and kicked the crushed door open on the passenger side. He jumped down from the truck then reached back for his bag.

"Where are you going?" she wondered.

"Away from you," he said clearly. "You're a mad woman!"

"I am not a mad woman," she defended hotly, pushing over to his side and jumping out after him. "I'm just--ohh, I-I'm--"

Alexei looked back at her in time to see her pass out at his feet. He looked down at her and started to walk away. She was a mad woman, no matter what she said. She had kidnapped him and almost killed him. He certainly didn't owe her anything.

But years of saving lives and caring for others took their toll on his conscience. He couldn't walk away from her, no matter what she'd done. What was it she had said to him before they hit the tree?

He knelt down beside her on the dark, damp ground. He felt her pulse. It was strong and even. He had glimpsed her head injury in the truck. It hadn't looked much worse than his but head injuries were the devil to diagnose accurately. She had probably just fainted when she jumped down. She moaned softly and started to move, proving the validity of his diagnosis.

"What happened?" she asked in a shaky voice.

"I believe you fainted."

"Fainted? I've never fainted in my life."

"It was probably stress along with the head trauma," he told her. "How many men have you kidnapped before?"

"None," she admitted sheepishly. "Oh God! And I've wasted my time! I've ruined my life and it's already too late! I've ruined Rickey's life, too! For nothing!" She burst into tears.

"Come now." Alexei helped her to her feet and stood with her a moment while she swayed a little. "You'll feel better in a moment."

"How can I feel better?" she questioned, barely able to speak over the great sobs that shook her. "I've screwed the whole thing up!"

Alexei had heard women cry. He'd had five sisters and a mother who had cried if the dog didn't sleep in its bed by the fire. He'd lived through a war where thousands had died around him and mothers and wives had wailed at their loss. Yet he didn't think he had ever heard a woman cry so loudly and pathetically as this woman.

It seemed only natural to drop his bag and take her in his arms. He could almost wrap his long arms double around her slender body. She was not much bigger than a child herself. It was then that he recalled what she'd said to him. Rickey was her son!

"So, Rickey is not your lover but your son?" he asked, hoping to do anything to distract her. The front of his shirt was soaked with her tears. Between the blood and the tears, he had a feeling his suit was ruined. And still he didn't understand why he was there!

"That's right," she sniffed. "I'm sorry. I should've explained."

"When would you have done so?" he queried, glad that she could speak again without sobbing. "You've been trying to abduct me."

"That's true," she admitted, her voice still thick with tears. "I know some things about your background. I should've known you wouldn't just let me kidnap you."

"And how do you know these things?"

"I read the Time Magazine article about you coming to this country to conduct trials of your new surgical technique. They mentioned a few things about your life."

He nodded and released her to pick up his bag again. "Yes, they did. They had no right to do so. They asked me to talk about my successes then they added what they wanted."

"Welcome to America," Robbie said with a grin. "Free press and women kidnapping innocent doctors. What a country!"

The mist was rising from the swamp where they were standing. It was cool and damp and felt like it could seep through even the sturdiest of clothes and shoes.

"Perhaps we should go," Alexei responded. "I hope you know where we are because otherwise we're lost." He looked around the dark trees and soggy ground.

"No problem, Doctor," she assured him. "I've spent my whole life here. I know my way through these swamps without looking."

He looked down at her. "We could follow the road and find our way."

"We don't need the road! This way is shorter."

Robbie was already trudging through the soaked ground and the hanging moss. The moon made ghostly shadows filtering through the trees. An owl called through the branches over their heads.

"I think the road would've been simpler," he called out to her as she slapped him in the face with another tree branch.

"But not as fast," she explained as he continued walking. "Two hundred years ago, there was a man named Andrew Jackson. They called him the swamp fox. He's one of our heroes of the Revolutionary war. He and his men lived in these swamps and popped out to raid the British garrisons and trick the soldiers. He helped win the war."

"Living in these swamps?" Alexei asked in doubt.

"Exactly. He knew that travel was faster and harder to detect when they stayed in the swamp instead of on the road."

"And who would follow them?" he wondered sarcastically.

"That's right," she announced cheerfully. "No one wanted to be in the swamp."

"I think I can appreciate their sentiments."

The swamp became deeper and murkier. The trees and moss were so thick that the moon couldn't even penetrate some spots. Alexei clung to his bag and refused to wonder what it was that had squished into his shoes. A bird flew out at him from a bush and something else hissed at him. He kept his eyes on Robbie's back as she kept up the pace through the swamp.

Robbie refused to think that she had ruined his suit and shoes and probably given him a concussion. She would buy him a new suit and a new pair of shoes. He'd get over the concussion. Once she got home, it was all going to work out. She knew it was going to be okay.

"You've told me a part of your history and you've told me that Rickey is your son but you haven't told me why I'm here," Alexei reminded her.

"You're right," she said, feeling a little foolish. "I had wanted to save it for when you meet Rickey but under the circumstances, I know you deserve to hear the truth."

"I think that and a hot cup of coffee would be nice," he replied.

"Don't worry," she told him, stopping and resting her hand on his shoulder. "When we get home, I'll take care of everything. You'll only lose a little time."

"All right," he agreed, anything to distract him from where they were and the mosquitoes working on his neck and face. "What is the truth?"

"Rickey is my son. He's four years old and he was born deaf."

Alexei's quiet, "Ahh," made her realize that he understood at once.

"It's not the way it seems." She hurried forward to keep him from drawing the wrong conclusion. "I know that a lot of people want to be part of your camp where you'll select the applicants who'll have the surgery. I'm sure you get this all the time."

"None quite so inventive."

She swallowed hard on the trace of sarcasm in his voice. "Well, anyway. Rickey needs the surgery and I read that the trials only let you operate on ten children this year then not again for five years while they're evaluated."

"That's right. You're very well informed for someone who lives in a swamp."

"But that's part of the problem. Rickey is only four instead of five, like the regulations say he has to be. But when the new surgery takes place, he'll be too old for the new trials since they have to take place between the ages of five and ten."

"Your AMA seems to think that is the right age to begin the surgery," he answered. "I have nothing to do with making the rules."

"I realize that," she replied. "But you could bend the rules a little."

"For Rickey?"

"Exactly."

He nodded. "I do understand now."

"But not really," she complained. "You can't understand, really understand, until you meet Rickey! He isn't your typical four-year old. I've been working with him. He's very mature and he could fit into the program. I know he could."

"I know this is a hardship for you," he said carefully. "But your son is too young for the program. Maybe in a few years, the trials will be over and he can have the surgery."

"But he'll be too old. He'll be five this fall. The AMA might not approve the surgery. You'll go back to Croatia and Rickey still won't be able to hear!"

She turned to face him. He took a step back. His foot slid in a patch of deep mud and he sank down to his knees in it.

"Oh my God," she exclaimed. "Alexei!"

He struggled to hold on to his case, finally releasing it to the swamp just to be able to get himself out of the mud. It was sucking at him, dragging him down. He had no intention of dying in the cursed swamp with this woman!

Robbie was trying to help him, pulling on his arms to get him up before he sank any further. She slipped in the mud and came down hard on her backside.

It was a satisfying sound for Alexei, who was steadily losing his sense of humor to the situation. He was covered with mosquito bites, full of oozing, smelly mud and his head hurt. On top of that, when the mud finally released his legs, it felt as though one of his ankles might be injured and he had lost one shoe to the mud pit.

"Are you all right?" she asked, looking up into his eyes, the moonlight showing the mud that covered her face.

"I'm fine," he answered, feeling around him for his bag. He swept his hands in a circle around him but the bag was gone. He started to take a step back and thought better of it. His book, even his papers, weren't worth falling back into the mud.

"Thank goodness," she replied with heartfelt enthusiasm. "Try to stay right behind me. I know where to walk to avoid the mud traps."

Alexei nodded, not trusting himself to speak for fear that he would do this woman violence. He walked immediately in her footsteps, never more than one step behind. One minute she was there before him, albeit a foot below him. The next she dropped down with nothing more than a slight `oops!" and disappeared.

"Robbie?" he called her name. "Robbie?"

Robbie surfaced in the deep mud pit that she knew was a lot like quicksand. If you fell in you had to stay very quiet until help came or it would pull you under. Alexei, fortunately, hadn't been close enough to follow her into the mud.

Alexei looked down at her. She was covered in mud now. The moonlight broke through the trees as a faint breeze started to rise. She looked like some primitive swamp demon rising from the mud.

"Could you help me?" she asked, wiping as much of the mud as she could from her face with her dirty hands.

"Could I help you?" he returned, considering the question. "Let me see, you've kidnapped me, almost killed me in your truck, dragged me through the mud and the swamp. My clothes are ruined except for what is lost. I think I will have malaria from the mosquito bites and I have lost one shoe. I believe the question should be, why would I help you?"

Robbie smiled at him a little shakily. "Because you're a decent human being."

He smiled at her wickedly, white teeth flashing against his dark face. "Try again."

"Because you could still get lost here without me."

"And that would be worse than being lost with you?" He wished he could pace but found himself restricted by the fear that he would fall into the slimy mud, too. "You are truly outrageous!"

Robbie could see that he was really angry. She supposed that she didn't blame him but they weren't going to get anywhere like that. She purposely pushed her face down a little more in the mud. "Alexei!" She spit out some mud and tried to sound pathetic. "I can't last long in here. This is like quicksand. It sucks you under and you drown."

He stared down at her. It was dark and the moonlight was behind him. He knew she couldn't see the expression on his face. He couldn't let her drown, as much as she might deserve it. He reached his hand down and waited while she grasped it tightly. Even with the mud clawing at her, she was light. Her body made a sucking noise as the mud released her.

"There! You're free. Can we go?"

"I'm sorry," she apologized. "I know this has been bad for you." She pushed as much mud as she could from her neck and chest then stamped her feet to get it off of her legs. "I know this hasn't turned out right. But it was done with the best of intentions."

"Intentions, young woman, don't make it right," he told her flatly. "Where do we go from here?"

Robbie looked around at the silvered, moonlight painted swamp and shivered convulsively. "Alexei," she said quietly. "Someday, you will look back on this and laugh."

"But not for some years I think," he assured her. "Which way, please?"

She bowed her head, wishing she wasn't such a mess but it was her own fault. "I don't know."

"What?"

She cleared her throat and looked up at him. "I don't know. I think we're lost."