“Are you sure we’re supposed to go left?” Noah asks. Warner looks up from the map. “Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,” he recites in that rich baritone. “And I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference.” Noah crinkles his nose. “What the…” he mutters under his breath. I clasp my hand over my mouth to suppress a giggle, and for a split second, Noah looks proud of himself for making me laugh.
