“I can’t take this from you.” He made no move to accept it. “Why not?” “Because as mad as I am, I won’t steal your chance to get out.” “You’re not stealing it. I’m giving it to you.” I shook the papers. “I don’t want it.” He pushed them back at me. “Your happiness means more to me than my freedom. And don’t worry about me. I’m sure I’ll find some other way to get out.” Yeah, but will it be too late by then? I wondered. “You have to take it back,” I said, trying to stand. My head swam again, exhaustion and hunger and dehydration winning out as I started to tip sideways. Nic caught me before I
...more
This highlight has been truncated due to consecutive passage length restrictions.