“Probably me!” said Bob cheerfully.
“So we need a motto, something to keep us going when the odds are against us.”
“Like the wind beneath our wings?” asked Riley.
“No, not like that. And thanks for putting that song in my head, by the way.”
She put her hand out and the others knew enough to cover her hand with theirs.
“Here’s to not getting killed,” she said, and then together they chorused:
“Not getting killed.”
It was the best they could hope for, given the circumstances.