Despite knowing she was about to be disappointed, Chase’s heart beat faster as she crested the track to Thunder Ridge Lodge. She’d never learned not to hope, not when her mother’d been ill, not when she’d been lying in the hospital with everyone telling her she’d never walk normally again, let alone climb, and not when she’d said good-bye to Lily. She slowed approaching the main building, heaviness replacing the buzz of anticipation in her depths that she hadn’t been able to crush. The lot was empty except for Sarah’s green Jeep. Of course the place was deserted late on a Sunday night. The campers had been gone for two weeks, the fourteen days she’d spent at a remote spike camp on Eagle Peak, too far from a trail for anything except a flyover airdrop of supplies every few days. They’d been lucky and kept the fire contained to minimal forest loss. The area would reforest and, given time, repopulate with the animals that had fled the conflagration. The burn had remained safely away from developed regions, and too far from cell service for calls home or even texts. Most of the crew—her included—were too busy mopping up, suppressing the few hot spots that flared up, and securing the trails to think about much except food and sleep. She’d thought about Lily, though, in the scant minutes of awareness after crawling into her shelter for a few hours of stuporous sleep. She wondered when Lily had left, if she’d left, and what she was doing now.

Chase parked, got out, and walked a short distance up the trail to look at the closed cabins and Lily’s now vacant clinic. Closed and shuttered until next summer. That answered the all-important question. Lily had left.

“She left the night the last of the campers went home,” Sarah said from behind her. “Two weeks ago, now.”

Chase took a breath and schooled her features, turning to face her sister. “Good. I guess you haven’t heard from her?”

“She texted me to let me know she’d gotten back to the city safe and sound. I haven’t heard anything since then.”

Chase pressed her lips together and nodded. “I imagine she’s pretty busy.”

“I imagine,” Sarah said pensively. Hurrying on, as if not sure of what she intended to say, she added, “You know, I’m not so sure telling her to go home was such a good idea.”

“That was always the plan,” Chase said. “We both understood that.”

“Yes, well.” Sarah sighed. “I might have suggested she go home—for your sake.”

Chase narrowed her gaze. “For my sake.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And how exactly did you do that?”