We’d never worked together on ski patrol. But here, finally, was a person whose mind I knew inside and out. My twin. We could work together without having to spell everything out. Without having to explain. We’d been doing it our whole lives.
I’d never felt more grateful for being a twin then at that moment.
“They were last seen on the Cascade Run,” I said, pulling up the mental map in my head. “It’s not difficult, but there are a few spots where you could take a wrong turn if you’re not paying attention. Especially if visibility drops.”
“Weather was clear earlier,” Kai said.
“But it’s getting colder. And it’ll be dark soon.” I checked my watch. “We’ve got maybe forty-five minutes of light left.”
“Then let’s not waste it.”
Kai’s jaw was set, his eyes focused and determined. He wasn’t on the ski patrol, but he’d been out on the slopes his entire life. He knew how small and insignificant we humans were compared to the power of nature.
He got it.
Something in my chest loosened. Just a little.
“Let’s go,” I said.
We headed for the door, our boots echoing on the floor. Staff members parted to let us through. Mrs. Greer was on the phone, probably calling for additional backup from town, but that would take time. Time we didn’t have.
As we passed through the lobby, I caught a glimpse of Emma and her mother on one of the couches. Emma’s face was tear streaked. Her mother had her arm around her, but she looked just as scared.
Zoe was crouched in front of them, talking softly. Trying to reassure them.
She glanced up as we passed, and our eyes met for just a second. There was something in her gaze—worry, yes, but also faith. She believed I could do this.
I hoped like hell she was right.
Outside, the cold hit me like a slap. The sun was already low on the horizon, painting the snow orange and pink. It was deceptively beautiful
Kai and I clicked into our skis with practiced efficiency. No wasted movements. No unnecessary words.
“North ridge?” he asked.
“Yeah. We’ll start there and work our way down. Look for any signs—ski tracks going off trail, broken branches, anything.”
“Got it.”
I adjusted my goggles and looked out at the mountain. Somewhere out there, a father was trying to keephis son warm. Trying to stay calm. Trying to make the right decisions.
I knew that fear. The helplessness of being alone on a mountain when things went wrong.
But they weren’t alone. Not anymore.
We were coming for them.
“Stay close,” I told Kai. “If we get separated?—”
“We won’t,” he said firmly.
And I believed him.
For the first time since John died, I wasn’t doing this alone.
We could do this. Wewoulddo this.
We had to.
