Lincoln studies me for another second, then nods.
Beau jerks his chin toward the cabin, and I release Abigail slowly. “Abigail—”
She lifts her chin in defiance. “I am not sitting in the woods again, so don’t even waste your breath.”
“You’re not arguin’ with me right now,” I say, even though—despite my body screaming in agony—the thought of arguing with her gets me a little hard.
She crosses her arms over her chest. “I absolutely am.”
Lawson steps in smoothly. “Abbie.” She looks at him and raises a brow. It doesn’t take any longer than three more seconds before he exhales and relents. “You stay with one of us.”
“Fine.” I don’t miss the way she fights a smile over winning that battle.
The five of us move toward the cabin. The door hangs half open from earlier as Lincoln enters first, weapon raised. “Clear left,” he calls.
“Clear right,” Beau answers.
I step inside behind them, the air stale and thick with old smoke and body odor.
Have they not fucking showered?
Abigail hovers close to the center of the room between us, eyes scanning everything. “There has to be something,” she says quietly.
I move into what passes for a kitchen—just a counter, a mini fridge, and a sink that is in desperate need of a cleaning.
I start opening drawers.
Empty.
Empty.
Empty.
“Check the bedrooms,” Lawson calls.
There are two. One mattress on the floor, stripped bare except for a faint stain I don’t want to identify.
The second has two folding cots and two duffel bags.
I unzip one but find nothing useful.
“Find anything?” Beau asks from the hallway.
“Nah. Nothin’.”
The five of us gather in the living room after clearing the entire cabin and coming up empty-handed. Abigail eyes me with worry as she grabs at the sleeves of her jacket.
“Do you think—” She swallows. “Do you think Kat was ever here?”
Lincoln’s jaw tightens. “If she was, it wasn’t for long.”
Abigail nods, but I don’t miss it.
The flicker.
Hope dying quietly.
“We’ll find her,” I say.
