QUOTE : In front of me, Gabe’s hands trembled. His face was drained of blood, mouth set in a grim line. “Hey Gabe, hold my hand,” I said. He squinted, hesitating, then glanced up at his mom. The makeup girl was dabbing her nose with powder and she didn’t look down. I nudged my hand into his balled-up fist and leaned closer. “I’m scared too.” He peered up, blinked, and decided to believe me. Why shouldn’t he? It was true. My hand was disgustingly clammy, but I think that was comforting to him, proof that I was as terrified as he was. He squeezed it tight.