When the Signal Dies, Love Is Logistics—and Every Choice Has a Cost

the passenger seat. I took the first wool blanket and created a cocoon around Barnaby. I cracked four of the chemical heat packs, shaking them until they grew hot, and tucked them specifically around his hips and spine, careful to keep a layer of fabric between the heat and his skin.

Barnaby sighed—a long, rattling exhalation of relief. He stopped shivering.continue reading …