To Him, We Were Never His

As the tail lights of the final red rescue truck cut through the dark, I stepped right into Jordan Reid's path.

I grabbed his wrist, my fingers trembling uncontrollably.

"Every single team is heading to the south side of Mount Sarthia? What about Eva? Layla's daughter has a clear GPS signal inside a safe campsite, but Eva's been missing for six hours. Why are you abandoning the child in actual danger?"

Jordan yanked his arm free with an irritated frown. "I told you, dispatch controls where the units go. Precisely because Eva is my daughter, I can't abuse my authority."

Always the same excuse.

For eight years, whenever his first love, Layla Barton, and I both needed him, he'd pull out some bulletproof, self-righteous lecture.

Now, he was using our daughter Eva Reid's survival to prove his moral purity.

I stared at his cold side profile and finally voiced the question that had been eating at me for years. "Jordan, what is Layla to you?

"Why is it that the second she sheds a tear, you can walk out on your pregnant wife, drop your sick daughter, or reroute an entire search-and-rescue team?"

He didn't answer.

Around us, the crew members slowed their work, sneaking glances in our direction.

Jordan's expression darkened. "Amanda Palmer, you're out of control. You shouldn't be in the command center right now. Leon, escort her out."

The veteran officer, Leon Burke, didn't move.

He glanced at the mud-soaked child's backpack in my arms and started softly, "Captain Reid, maybe leave just one truck? Storm's rolling into the west side of Mount Sarthia soon. If the kid—"

"Follow orders." Jordan cut him off. "Panicked family members cloud judgment and slow down the operation."

I reached for the monitor to check the live map, but the screen went black.

Jordan had revoked my access. "Wait outside. Interfere again, and I'll have you removed from the premises."

Right then, his phone buzzed. Layla's name flashed across the screen.

Jordan stepped aside to take the video call.

The harshness in his voice melted the instant he spoke. "Layla, don't cry."

On the screen, Layla was sobbing. "Jordan, Demi is all I have left. I can't lose her. She's terrified of the dark. Could you please come look for her yourself? I don't trust anyone else."

Jordan softened his tone. "I'm heading over with my team right now. She'll be fine. I promise I'll bring her back safe."

He had made that exact promise to Eva once.

I looked down and unzipped Eva's backpack.

Everything I packed was still inside, except for her red emergency whistle.

On Eva's fifth birthday, Jordan had placed that whistle around her neck himself. He had crouched down in front of her. "If you ever get lost in the woods, stay put. Stand somewhere safe and blow it three times. No matter where I am, I'll always find you."

Eva held the whistle like a treasure, her eyes sparkling. "Really?"

Jordan had scratched her nose affectionately. "I'm a rescue captain. When have I ever lied to you?"

She took that whistle everywhere ever since.

Right now, she was probably out there somewhere, blowing it over and over, waiting for Jordan to follow the sound—except he was heading in the exact opposite direction.