She nods. I lace my fingers with hers, and we head down the beach, the water lapping at our ankles. "I don't know what got into me," she says. "In a matter of one night, we lost four people. Any one of us could be next."
I give her hand a squeeze. "Hey, don't think like that."
"It's hard not to."
"I know." I sigh. "Promise me something?"
"What?"
I tug on her hand, and we both stop. "If you're feeling overwhelmed or sad, please talk to me. I'm a great listener." I grin, and I'm rewarded with a smile from her. "You're not alone here, okay?"
She nods again. "Thank you."
We resume walking, mostly in silence this time. If I try hard enough, I can imagine we're on vacation, exploring some tropical oasis. It's a pleasant fantasy, but it's nearly impossible to ignore reality - especially when that reality can get us killed.
Her steps slow. "Maybe we should go back."