"Cole Brennan." Maggie's voice was rough with sleep when she answered. She had been Sarah’s teacher last year, and my relationship with Emma got us talking, as she was, in Emma’s words, ‘her only friend’. "It's six-thirty on a Sunday. Someone better be dying."
"I need you to watch Sarah."
A pause. "Are you about to do something brave or something stupid?"
"Probably both."
"That tracks." I heard rustling, like she was sitting up. "Cole, that woman is drowning in her own fear. You can throw her a rope, but you can't force her to grab it."
"I know."
"Do you? Because you've got that stubborn voice. The one that says you're going to fix this through sheer force of will."
"I just need to talk to her."
"Talking is good. Lecturing is bad. There's a difference."
"Thanks for the advice."
"You're not going to take it, are you?"
"Probably not."
She sighed. "At least you're honest. Get over here."
I dropped Sarah off at Maggie’s with promises I wasn't sure I could keep. The drive to Emma's cabin felt endless, every curve in the road a chance to second-guess myself. What if Maggie was right? What if I pushed too hard and lost her completely?
The alternative was losing her anyway. At least this way I'd know I tried.
Her cabin looked quiet, curtains still drawn. I sat in my truck for a full minute, hands gripping the steering wheel, rehearsing what I'd say.
The hikers were found. You're not crazy. I understand. Please let me in.
Eloquent, Brennan. Really compelling stuff.
I knocked before I could talk myself out of it.
The door opened slowly. Emma stood there in worn pajamas, her hair tangled, her eyes red and swollen. She looked like she hadn't slept either. She looked like she'd been crying for hours.
She looked like the most beautiful, broken thing I'd ever seen.
"Cole." My name came out hoarse, exhausted. "I told you I need space."
"I know. I'm sorry." I held up my phone, and the news article was still displayed. "But I thought you should know. The missing couple was found. Last night. They're safe."
She took the phone, scanned the headline, and handed it back. "That's luck."
"It's more than luck. They made good decisions. Took shelter instead of pushing through."
"And next time?" Her voice was flat, hollow. "Next time the storm comes faster. Next time the shelter isn't there. Next time luck runs out."
"Emma—"
"I don't trust life to have happy endings, Cole." She wrapped her arms around herself, a defensive wall. "I've seen too many stories end badly. I won't survive another one."
There it was. The core of everything.
"Can I come in?" I asked quietly. "Please. Just to talk."
