“Because earlier there were too many people around. Out here there’s no one.”
His words made sense.
The highway remained empty in both directions, the white center line fading into darkness.
She thought about what would have happened if Wyatt hadn’t been watching his mirrors. If his hands hadn’t been as steady as they were. If the shoulder had been a few feet narrower.
“You doing okay?” Wyatt murmured as he gazed at her.
She considered the question before answering. “I’ve been frightened for days. I’ve been exhausted and worried and heartbroken.” Her jaw tightened. “And my sister is somewhere in those mountains with these people.”
Wyatt let Kori talk, not interrupting.
“I’m angry.” She looked out the window again. “And I’m scared. I don’t say that easily.”
“I know you don’t.”
“I’m scared that we’re running out of time. That the storm will come, and we won’t have found Mackenzie. That whatever these people need her for—” Her voice caught. “That they’ll decide they’re done needing her.”
Wyatt reached across and put his hand over hers where it rested on the seat beside her. He didn’t say anything. He left it there a moment, warm and steady.
Then he squeezed once and pulled his hand back. “We’re not done. And neither is she.”
Kori looked at him.
He meant his words. Kori could see that truth plainly. This wasn’t reassurance for its own sake—it was a statement of intent.
She appreciated that more than she could express.
