Page 213 of Rangers Mountain Rescue

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Her breath stutters.

“He’s not hurt,” I continue.

“You don’t know that—”

“I do.”

Because I have to.

Because if I don’t believe it, she won’t either.

And I need her standing.

Not breaking.

“They took him for a reason,” I say. “Which means he’s alive.”

Her lips tremble.

“They don’t need him hurt,” I add. “They need him breathing.”

A tear slips down her cheek.

I catch it before it falls.

Thumb brushing it away.

“He’s slow,” she whispers. “He won’t understand what they want… he won’t be able to—”

My jaw tightens.

“I know.”

And that’s exactly why this just became something else entirely.

Because now it’s not just a rescue.

It’s a race.

Against fear.

Against confusion.

Against time.

I lean in slightly.

Forehead almost touching hers.

“They don’t get to hurt him,” I say quietly.

Not loud.

Not dramatic.

But absolute.

Her eyes search mine.

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