I stared at her, utterly confused and horrified. She mirrored my expression.

“You’re right,” she said. “This isn’t the time. Let’s go sit. Trex is getting updates every half an hour from his people.”

“His people?”

Ellison shrugged. “I don’t know. He just said his people.”

We sat together on the couch in the lobby, surrounded by firefighters, hotshots, and various officials. As the night wore on, the crowd thinned.

My eyes felt heavy, and every time I blinked, it seemed more difficult to open them again. The desk clerk brought us coffee and a plate of doughnuts, but neither Ellison nor I touched the food.

Trex came over, sitting in the chair adjacent to our sofa.

“Any word?” Ellison asked.

Trex shook his head, clearly disheartened.

“What about the rescue team?” I asked.

“Nothing,” Trex said. “I’m sorry. My guys only give visual confirmation, and they haven’t seen anyone in an hour. The helos are up with spotlights, but the smoke is making it difficult to see.” He glanced back at the desk clerk and then shook his head. “I’m going to call them in ten minutes. I’ll let you know the moment I hear anything.”

Ellison nodded, and then her attention was drawn to the entrance.

Taylor walked in, his skin caked in dirt and soot. He removed his bright blue hard hat, and I stood, my eyes instantly filling with tears.

I leaned forward, my body half-frozen, half-screaming at me to run to him.

Ellison jumped out of her seat and rushed past me, throwing her arms around him.

It wasn’t Taylor but Tyler. I’d only felt that much devastation one other time in my life—the moment Olive was pulled from my arms.

Matching clean streaks ran down Tyler’s cheeks as he hugged Ellison, shaking his head.

“No,” I whispered. “No!”

Tyler rushed over to me. “Taylor’s crew was cut off when the fires converged. It’s possible that they could have backed themselves into a cave, but … the temperatures are … it doesn’t look good, Falyn. I tried. They dragged me out. I’m sorry.”

He hugged me, and my hands fell limp at my sides.

There were no tears, no pain, no waves of emotion. There was nothing.

And then my knees buckled, and I wailed.

By morning, Ellison was lying on Tyler’s lap, asleep, while he sipped his fourth cup of coffee. His eyes had been glued on the television screen, just like mine.

Fresh crews came downstairs, ready for a second search-and-rescue mission. Tyler’s team had all trudged in and gone upstairs to catch what sleep they could.

Trex stood at the desk with the woman who had brought us coffee all night. His team had turned in two hours before, waiting until daylight before resuming their air search.

I stood, and Tyler’s eyes followed.