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I nodded.

Max led us through the trees.

Camp Eagle River appeared slowly, one dark building at a time. Empty cabins lined a weed-covered path. A flagpole leaned near an old dining hall, and the lake beyond it reflected the last strip of light in the sky.

Rylie stopped.

Trigger moved beside her. “You okay?”

“She was standing near that flagpole the last time I saw her.”

“Emily?”

Rylie nodded. “The storm was coming. The wind had already started. She gave me the key and told me to keep it safe.”

“Did she say anything else?” I asked.

“She told me not to give it to anyone. Not even an adult.”

That detail mattered.

“Did she seem frightened?”

“I thought she was being dramatic. We were teenagers. Everything felt dramatic.” Rylie swallowed. “But yes. She was scared.”

“Did she look toward anyone when she gave it to you?”

Rylie stared across the camp.

“The office.”

I followed her gaze.

A long, low building stood across the clearing. Several windows were broken, and part of the roof sagged near the back.

“Was someone inside?” Mace asked.

“I don’t remember.”

Max stiffened.

Mace immediately raised one hand.

We stopped.

The dog turned toward the dining hall, his nose lifted.

“What is it?” I whispered.

Mace watched him. “He smells someone.”

Trigger spoke quietly into his radio. “Possible movement near the dining hall.”

“We’re moving,” Wolf answered.

A branch snapped in the darkness.

Trigger moved Rylie behind him. Mace and I drew our weapons as Max stared between two cabins.