Sarah held her at arm’s length, her hands smoothing down the fabric of Lily’s cotton shirt in a steady caress. “And you look as beautiful as ever, except maybe a little too skinny.”

Lily knew she was lying. She’d lost fifteen pounds and hadn’t been able to get rid of the dark circles under her eyes for months. But she took the compliment and pretended it was true. “I…”

A golden rocket accompanied by a joyous yelp shot past Sarah, and Lily staggered under the onslaught of two paws landing none too gently on her hip. She laughed. “Who are you?”

“Baily,” Sarah said, “get down.”

“Baily?” Lily rubbed the handsome golden retriever behind both ears. “This can’t be Baily. He can’t be more than…” She swallowed and looked at Sarah. “The last time I saw him he was three months old.”

“He’s almost three,” Sarah said quietly.

“I remember,” Lily said quietly. “You talked me into meeting you at the place you’d rented in the Catskills, and you’d just gotten him. Right before lockdown.” She took a tremulous breath. “Sometimes that seems like another lifetime.”

“I’m so sorry for everything you’ve been through,” Sarah said quietly, her hazel eyes warm with sympathy.

Lily forced a smile. “Well. Everyone had challenges, right? And we made it out the other side.”

Most of us. The words she didn’t say brought a barrage of images that she’d gotten better at pushing aside, but could never completely erase. Stretchers jammed head to foot, spilling out of the ER down every adjacent hallway, some holding bodies wrapped in white sheets waiting their turn to be delivered to the makeshift tent morgues in the parking lots outside the hospital. Twelve- to eighteen-hour shifts, understaffed and nearly overwhelmed, for weeks that became months and, unbelievably, years.

Sarah put an arm around her shoulders and squeezed her. “You’re here now. Come on, let me show you the place. You’ll feel better when you’re settled in.”

“There is one thing I’m going to need,” Lily said quietly.

Sarah paused. “What?”

“A Jeep.”

Sarah burst out laughing. “Rough ride coming up?”

“Not entirely what I expected.” Lily fell into step, grateful she’d packed both pairs of running shoes when she’d left the apartment. The identifiable paths were really just pine-needle-strewn trails studded with rocks, smaller versions of what she’d just driven up. Considering what she’d seen of the terrain so far, she wouldn’t be making much use of the sandals she’d opted for that morning in deference to the projected temperatures. Although this far north, under the towering evergreens, the air was decidedly cooler than she’d expected. And…fresh. Another welcome change from the city. Another turn of the wheel between then and now.

“So far, none of this fits the admittedly hazy picture I had of a state-sponsored camp for older teens,” Lily added. She hadn’t pictured the wildness of the mountains or the remoteness. And she definitely hadn’t expected to run into a forest ranger out in the middle of truly nowhere who kept turning up in her thoughts.