There was no answer from Willa’s phone.
She tried again.
Still nothing.
She called Ace.
Nothing.
Then Grace.
Nothing.
Panic rose fast and ugly in her chest.
“Come on,” she whispered. “Come on, Willa, answer…”
June barely heard anything around her as she was trying to call Willa again. And again. And then Ace. And then Grace. Her fingers shook so badly she almost dropped the phone.
When Holt came back into the kitchen, she turned toward him at once.
“I can’t get hold of Willa,” June said. Terror was already rising so hard inside her that it made her voice shake. “I can’t get hold of any of them.”
“June,” Holt said, moving in front of her.
She dialed again. Nothing.
“I have to keep trying,” June muttered, not caring she probably sounded like a mad person.
“June.” Holt reached out then, not forcefully, just enough to catch her hand and make her look at him.
His expression had changed.
And the instant she saw that, whatever fragile hope she had was hit by something far colder.
“You won’t get through to any of them,” he said gently. “It’s a survival camp. They didn’t take their phones.”
Her heart dropped even farther.
“They have children with them,” June reasoned. “They would’ve had emergency phones.”
“They have satellite phones.” Holt nodded. “Rad and Ace took them with.”
“Did anyone get through to them?” Hope flared again so quickly it almost hurt.
“Zane got a call from Becky.” Holt swallowed.
June stared at him.
It took her a second to understand why that was wrong.
Becky was with the younger group.
Not Willa’s.
“The younger kids,” June said. “Are they okay?”
“Rad and Margo got them to a safe pickup point with one of the senior counselors,” Holt said quickly. “Search and rescue is already moving to get them.”
