Chapter 13: The Laminated Map

James finally stopped turning the smooth stone in his palm. He turned his head to look directly at her, his eyes catching the warm amber reflection of the dashboard lights spilling from the slightly ajar door of the truck cab. "Every single time I look down at this crumpled map you painstakingly drew back in sixth grade," he answered thoughtfully, reaching out to tap the corner of the dashboard where a laminated copy of their old imaginary continent still rested under a clear plastic folder, preserved through every spilled soda and messy glove compartment.