The further we get from Jackson’s cabin, the more my tension eases. Draken lifts me down the stairs again, and then his hands don’t leave my body. He guides me by my elbow. The small of my back. My hip.

I’m not used to someone so close to my back, so focused on me. I trip a half dozen times, way more than usual.

And despite the crisp evening air, the wool in my brain is thicker than ever. The sun has sunk below the foothills. It’s almost dinner time, and I’m hungry, but as Draken and I walk side by side, I’m also drawn deeper, moment by moment, into...