Chapter 2

After forcing myself to calm down, I noticed a chalky gray dust caked along the bottom of Eva's backpack.

It wasn't regular dirt. It was fine powder left behind by crushed, weathered rock.

Two cockleburs were clinging to the mesh side pocket.

Back when I worked for the mountain rescue service, I helped map the local vegetation.

The soil in the eastern forest had a reddish tint with zero trace of crushed rock.

Cockleburs only grew along the abandoned patrol trail to the northwest.

Eva hadn't gone east at all.

I grabbed the backpack, sprinted to the truck, and shoved the residue in front of Jordan. "Eva might be on the northwest trail. Leave me one truck and a thermal drone. Give me 30 minutes, and I can confirm it."

Jordan glanced at it without taking it. "That trail was sealed three years ago, complete with a guardrail at the trailhead. A child couldn't get through.

"Last year's heavy rains could have broken the barrier. The rock dust and burs on her pack prove she was over there."

I unfolded a tissue and wiped the powder onto it. "There's a cliff on the northwest side, and a flash flood warning is active for tonight. We can't wait."

Jordan's gaze only grew colder. "Amanda, you left this field eight years ago. Don't question the commander on the ground based on outdated experience."

I felt like my heart was being squeezed by an iron fist.

Back then, I gave up my career at the mountain rescue center to care for Eva after her premature birth.

Jordan had held me and promised he'd never forget my sacrifice.

Eight years later, that very sacrifice was his reason to dismiss me.

He yanked the truck door open, leaving behind a cold farewell. "Wait here for news. Stop getting in the way."

The convoy pulled out one by one, disappearing down the road toward the south side of Mount Sarthia.

I stood frozen in the pouring rain when footsteps sounded behind me.

Leon pulled me out of sight of the others and shoved a map into my hands. "Mrs. Reid, I recognize the rock dust Captain Reid dismissed."

He pointed to a faded dashed line on the northwest corner of the map. "Below the abandoned patrol trail, there's a 50-foot cliff."

Leon explained that while the trail was sealed long ago, torrential rains last year had collapsed a section of the barrier.

Funding for repairs stalled, so management had only put up a temporary warning banner.

There were over 40 kids at this summer camp.

In all the chaos, no one could guarantee a child hadn't slipped through the breach.

"I can't disobey Captain Reid's orders."

Leon pressed the paper map harder into my hands. "But a child can't wait. Mrs. Reid, you have to figure something out."

After he turned and left, I pulled out my phone and dialed a number I hadn't called in eight years.

It picked up on the very first ring.

"Amanda?"

Hearing that familiar voice made my throat tighten instantly.

"Derick, it's me."

Derick Merrill was the chief technician for the National Mountain Rescue Center and my former partner before I stepped down.

For eight years, he'd reach out every so often to ask if I was ready to come back.

Every time, my answer was the same—just a little longer.

Until Eva started preschool. Until her health improved. Until Jordan wasn't so busy with work.

I always thought there would be plenty of tomorrows.

It took today for me to realize that once I stepped back, people assumed I never intended to stand my ground again.

"My daughter is missing. I think she's on the northwest trail at Mount Sarthia. I need equipment and manpower."

Silence stretched over the line for two seconds.

Derick didn't ask why I wasn't using the official search team. "Send me the coordinates. See you in 20."

20 minutes later, two private rescue rigs pulled up right in front of me.

Derick hopped out of the passenger side and pressed a hard hat onto my head.

"Trucks, ropes, breaching tools, and first aid. We brought it all. We've got three drones, but the storm's going to cut their battery life short."

He handed me a tablet. On screen was an old map of Mount Sarthia.

My breath hitched when I saw the signature in the bottom right corner.

It was the map I drew by hand eight years ago.

One of the young crew members stared at me for a long moment, his eyes suddenly widening. "You're Homing?"