Chapter 1 #4
“And all trail access from the South Rim will be terminated,” Virgil continued. “We can no longer control the influx of people searching for Roosevelt’s third cache. The South Rim will remain open for lookout points only.”
Anya’s voice came out small. “What about staff?”
“Permanent positions will reassign to rim patrol and enforcement. Seasonal and temporary contracts…” Virgil exhaled. “Those positions will be suspended.”
They would need dispatch, but one would be plenty, and Betty had ten years of seniority.
Which meant Eden was out.
Fantastic.
Three chairs away, Teague sat motionless, his earlier confidence erased. He stared ahead, jaw tight, knuckles scraped raw from the climb.
Today’s rescue—the thing he’d been celebrated for—had probably been the final straw. The incident that convinced regional to shut everything down.
And she’d been at her desk. Useless.
Virgil kept talking. “We have until Monday night to put it all in place. That is less than seventy-two hours to reassign jobs and get barriers in place. All backcountry permits are revoked starting tonight. That’s all for now.”
The moment Virgil stepped away from the podium, the meeting dissolved into chaos—voices overlapped, questions hurled. Eden stayed frozen.
Liam appeared at her shoulder. “Eden. You okay?”
Was she okay?
Sure. Job evaporated, life in shambles, main accomplishment today was yelling at the guy everyone considered a hero. Peachy.
“I’m fine.” The lie hung between them. “I will be. Eventually.”
“If you need anything—”
“I need to figure out what I’m doing with my life.” She stood abruptly. “That’s what I need.” She walked past the stunned rangers. Past Teague, still sitting motionless, staring at nothing.
The sun slanted through the windows, making dust glint in the air.
Outside, the Grand Canyon stretched in impossible beauty—miles of layered rock in rust and ocher and gold.
Trails that would soon be locked behind barriers.
A wilderness that didn’t care about treasure hunters or protocols or the fragile plans of one broken dispatcher.
Eden pushed open the door and stepped into the afternoon air.
The breeze carried sage and distant pine. Adrenaline still rushed through her—but not because of Teague’s jump anymore.
Every plan she’d made had just crumbled to dust.
Just like right before she’d landed at the Grand Canyon.
No stability. Nothing solid. At the mercy of circumstances she couldn’t control.
She stood at the edge of the parking lot, dry air biting her cheeks.
She couldn’t go back.
But she didn’t know where she’d find the courage to go forward.