"I don't know whether to appreciate your concern or to be insulted that you thought I could be so easily killed."

Kambili stood in front of me. Lying beside her was a dead man. A single bullet hole pierced his forehead.

"He's dead. I already checked," she said. "No pulse."

I threw my arms around her.

"I thought it was you." I was so thankful that it wasn't.

She patted my back awkwardly. "I know," she said dryly. "I heard."

As I released her, I asked, "How did you stop him?"

"When you distracted him, I wrestled his gun from his arm and shot him."

"With his own bullet," I marveled.

Kambili clutched her backpack and lobbed mine at me. "We don't have time to linger. The others are close enough that they would've heard the bullet." After collecting the pieces of her pistol and burying them in her pocket, she started walking. I noticed she kept the automatic gun at her side.

"Are we going back into the forest?" I asked.

"We don't have time for that. If they find us, they'll keep and sell us."

"Is that why you killed him?"

"I killed him because he saw your face. Your eyes are unforgettable. Black rimmed with bright blue. Now, when your father's men come searching for you, they'll find a dead smuggler, rather than a loud-mouthed man."

"You had the time to think that through?" I asked in awe; my only thoughts had been to escape.

"I'm the leader," she said. "I always have to think things through." A few minutes later, she stopped and nodded at the lake before us. "I'm glad I remembered seeing this lake half a mile back."

"You can't expect us to walk over that." It had been warmer for the last few days. "The ice must be melting."

She smiled at me. "You swim, right?" Kambili didn't wait to take her first step. "Are you coming?"

Hefting my backpack tighter over my shoulders, I asked, "What choice do I have?" I waited until I found my balance on the ice before moving forward to catch up with Kambili. Taking small, measured steps, with my arms spread out, I soon had three-quarters left to the end. But then the smugglers returned, with the woman in purple leading the hunt.

"Don't look back," Kambili said as she tightened her hood over her head and told me to do the same. "We don't need our features to be added into the character descriptions."

We increased our pace, reaching the halfway mark, when a ping erupted from behind us. Five more sounded, and then another round commenced.

"Are they firing at us?" I asked.

"We're too far away for them to reach us."

"Maybe their target isn't us," I said, resisting the urge to look back. "Maybe it's the lake."

Kambili shot me an alarmed look, but we couldn't increase our pace. We were speed walking already, at the cusp of a jog. We couldn't risk falling—not now. We had one last quarter of the lake left to cross, and I hoped that the ice would hold.

I heard a crunch almost immediately. Small cracks had begun to form.

The end was in sight. Twenty more steps, I guessed, and then sixteen. Twelve more. My heart pounded like it had in the maze. The cracks were growing. Long, crystalline lines appeared in greater numbers. Seven. I saw water as jagged chunks of ice formed. It was dark, almost black. I felt frozen just staring at it. Kambili wavered on her feet as the ice block she was standing on split into two. Three. I was so close. One. When my foot reached the snowy ground, I almost cried in relief. I latched onto the low-hanging branch of a willow tree and pulled myself up.

Kambili was right behind me. I wrapped an arm around the tree trunk as leverage as I stuck out a hand for her to latch onto. Her fingers grazed mine when she slipped. She had stepped on a crack.

I lurched for her, keeping arm tucked around the trunk. Her lower body was submerged in the frigid water, but her hands clasped onto my hand. For the first time, I saw real terror in her eyes.

"Can you stand?" I asked her. Her body was heavy. I didn't know if I could pull her up.

"The water is deep." Her teeth chattered. "My feet can't find anything. Celeste, I'm c-cold."

I leaned forward to haul her up. It was like the water didn't want to let her go. Her grip on my arm was slipping. Winding my legs around the tree freed my other arm. I used my hands to tighten her grip on me and pull her forward. Inch by inch, I yanked her toward me. I was getting tired, but I pushed through. In one last burst of strength, I heaved her over the edge.

We lay breathing on the ground in unison.

Once I caught my breath, I looked at her and smiled.

Somehow, for some reason, we dissolved into laughter. When we subsided, she looked at me, her eyes wide and innocent like her brother's. "You saved my life. Thank you. I—"

Her teeth chattered, so I stopped her when she would've continued. "Don't worry about it." I dropped my bag onto the floor. "Let me find some wood to start a fire." I passed the straps through the clasp, flipped open the flap, and retrieved the two fleece blankets. Her hands reached out for the blankets, and I handed them to her before foraging out into the woods. 

"They need to be dry."

"What?" I turned back.

Her head poked out from underneath the covers. "The sticks, they need to be dry," she said as she started to remove her wet clothes.

When I returned with the firewood, I rubbed the sticks together just as she said, waiting until a small flame flickered in the woodpile. With Kambili's directions, I coaxed the fire into a fierce blaze. I kneeled as close to the flames as could, holding my hands up to receive its warmth, while Kambili gathered the supplies to reheat rice and stew and cook the beans.

I waited while the beans were bubbling nicely within the pot to ask the question that had been burning in my mind for days. "Can we read the journal tonight?"

She stood to stir the stew. "The thing is..." She wasn't meeting my gaze.

"What is it, Kambili?"

"As you pulled me up, I felt the journal dislodge from its place. I assumed it would be safer with me, instead of in my backpack. I never imagined that I'd fall into a lake."

"You lost the journal?" I worked to keep the anger from showing in my tone.

"It was an accident." She shrugged helplessly.

I jumped to my feet. "We have to go back and look for it. We have to find it. Kambili, I—"

I narrowed my eyes. She was on her knees, eyes squeezed shut as she clutched her stomach. She didn't make a sound, but her shoulders shook.

"Are you laughing?" I gravitated toward her. "Why are you laughing?" She straightened, revealing the burgundy leather sitting on her lap.

"And you think I can't be fun." She looked so self-satisfied, it was hard to stop a smile from curling my lips.

"There are things we can joke about, and things we just don't do. It's common decency. You crossed the line."

"Come, Atulu, don't be angry. Would you forgive me if I said that I'm sorry?" She laughed again. "Here." She smiled as she placed the journal in my hand. "Happy now?"

I held the journal suspiciously in front of me. "What did you do, replace it with a decoy?"

She looked hurt, but I knew she was faking. "Just open it."

Taking the knife from her, I nicked my finger, wincing as the skin split. The blood dove from my hand toward the heart clasp. There had to be another way, I thought, still smarting from the cut. I couldn't keep slicing my fingers forever.

The journal hummed and clicked open. I opened the first page, reading the name, Onyeka Ezike. I had to remember to ask Kambili what it meant. Later, I told myself. I ran my finger over the date. So long ago, yet the journal was well preserved. 

I turned the next page, and my heart dropped. In all my excitement, I had forgotten that the journal was written in Igbo. I understood Kambili's smile now. She had known.

"I need a translator." I looked around. There was no one for miles.

"Imagine that," she said.

"I guess I'm stuck with you."

"No," she corrected, "we're stuck with each other.