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Whining.

Aspen exhales slowly.

But her voice drops to steel.

I study her for a moment.

She’s exhausted.

Grieving.

Overwhelmed.

And still standing there ready to climb a mountain for an old man who isn’t even related to her by blood.

Tank would’ve loved her. He did love her.

I sigh.

“Stay close,” I tell her.

Then I turn toward the trees.

“Alright,” I say.

“Let’s go find Harold.”

Buddy bolts forward.

And the Rangers move out behind him.