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“We were between Honduras and the tip of Mexico when we went down.” He draws an X in the dirt. The area of the ocean that Carlos gestures to with his stick seems so miniscule, but TK knows it’s likely thousands of square miles. “We may have gotten slightly off course when we lost control, but yeah,” he slides his foot over the picture, effectively wiping it away. “It’s a start.”
His eyes are stormy and his brow is furrowed. TK wants to smooth it out with his thumb, he wants to wash the dirt off his neck and ask him why he looks like he’s holding the weight of the world on his shoulders, but all he can do is nod and hope the rescue team can find them as easily as the map made it seem.
Bookmarked by Nahuel
02 Aug 2025
