Jay adjusts his grip against Winnie. His fingers dig into her side, and she is deeply vexed that in the back of her brain, a silly little part of her hopes he likes what he feels. “It was hard to miss—hey, hey, Winnie, are you okay?” He pauses his forward stride to peer into her face. But Winnie only wags her head. Of course she isn’t okay. It’s why they have to keep moving. It’s why they can’t just stand here as they do right now with Jay cupping her jaw and studying her while she clutches at his hoodie and strains to stay upright.
