Page 143 of Rangers Mountain Rescue

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Straight toward Havoc.

Relief floods my chest so hard it almost knocks me over.

Because this—

this is what matters.

That he came back.

That my son didn’t lose someone else.

Only then do I move.

The wind from the blades whips around me, pulling at my hair, my clothes, my breath.

Dust rises.

Noise fills everything.

Then I see him.

Havoc.

On the stretcher.

Blood on his shirt.

Face pale under the harsh light.

Still.

Too still.

Something inside me cracks.

“No,” I breathe.

Hands already moving.

Checking.

Assessing.

Working.

“Nash, can you hear me?” I say, my voice steady, even though everything inside me is shaking.

His eyes open.

Slow.

Heavy.

But they find mine immediately.

And everything else disappears.“Aspen,” he says.

My name sounds different.

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