Chapter 32
Kori saw the Forest Service truck pull into the lot, and her stomach tightened.
She knew exactly who was inside.
Sure enough, Flint stepped out and scanned the staging area with that unhurried confidence she remembered too well. He hadn’t changed much. He still had that same easy posture and that same way of moving through a space like he belonged in it.
She looked away before he spotted her.
Several teams were still out in the woods working the grid farther north. The search wasn’t over—not even close—and she found comfort in that fact. But she was beginning to feel the weight of each hour that passed without news.
“Kori.” Wyatt said, his voice low and close.
She turned.
“I need to talk to Flint. See why he’s here.”
She fell into step beside him anyway. Standing on the other side of the staging area pretending she hadn’t noticed wasn’t something she had the energy for.
Flint spotted Wyatt first and moved toward him. Then his eyes found hers and something shifted briefly in his expression before the easy professional smile settled into place.
“Wyatt.”
They shook hands.
Then Flint looked at her. “Kori. I didn’t realize you were here. Again, I’m sorry to hear about Mackenzie.”
“Thank you.” Her words came out even, a fact she was proud of.
He turned back to Wyatt. “Forest Service wanted me to check in and see if there’s anything else we can do on our end—access roads, equipment, whatever you need.”
“We appreciate that,” Wyatt said. “Search teams are working the grid north of Lost Hollow right now. Main challenge is the terrain past the second ridge.”
Flint’s gaze went to the tree line. “I know that area fairly well. Did boundary surveys out there about a year and a half ago.”
“What’s back there?” Wyatt asked. “Past where the trail ends?”
“Rough terrain. A couple of old clearings.” Flint paused. “There’s actually some remnant infrastructure back in there from the Harrow’s Mill days. Bunkhouses, supply sheds—all abandoned when the Forest Service absorbed the land. Most people don’t know they’re there.”
Wyatt looked at him. “How far in?”
“Far enough that you wouldn’t stumble on them.” Flint shrugged. “I can pull the old survey files if that would help. Might give your team a clearer picture of what’s back there.”
“That’d be useful,” Wyatt said. “I’d appreciate it.”
Flint reached for his phone. “I’ll have them sent over.”
Kori watched his face while he and Wyatt talked through a few more details. She looked for something she could name—some tell, some crack in the surface.
She didn’t find one.
Then someone called Wyatt away . . . and he left her and Flint standing there.
“Kori.” Flint’s voice sounded careful, practiced. “I really hope you find Mackenzie.”
Kori studied his face and wondered what had happened between him and her sister.
Had the two of them tried to make their relationship work after Kori had left town? And if they’d dated . . . who had walked away?
She had so many questions.
Flint waited for her response.
She cleared her throat and forced out a quiet, “Thank you.”
Something flickered in his eyes before he nodded once. “If there’s anything I can do—”
“You’ve already been helpful.” She pointed at the tablet under his arm. “With the records.”
“Of course. Whatever I can do.” He pressed his lips together as if chewing on a thought. “Kori . . .”
She stilled. “Yes?”
“It wasn’t what you think. What happened between me and Mackenzie.”
Her stomach tightened. “I don’t know what to think.”
“It was only once. And we both regretted it.”
Her lungs froze at his words. She had a million things to say, but nothing that seemed worthwhile at the same time.
“None of it should’ve happened,” Flint continued.
Kori folded her arms, more to steady herself than anything else. “But it did.”
“Yes, it did.” He paused and licked his lips before continuing. “I went to DC once, you know. I thought maybe I could talk to you. Explain.” He let out a short breath. “When I got there, you were working. I sat in the back of a courtroom and watched you for about ten minutes.”
Kori blinked. “You what?”
“You were in the middle of a case. You were so focused and confident.” A faint, almost self-conscious smile touched his lips before disappearing just as quickly. “You were exactly where you were supposed to be.”
Something shifted in her chest, but she ignored it. “So you left.”
“Yeah.” His gaze dropped. “I realized I didn’t belong there. Not in that world. Not in yours.”
“And Mackenzie?” Kori asked.
That flicker returned—this time harder to hide. “She tried to pretend it didn’t matter. That everything was fine. It wasn’t. She . . .” He hesitated, searching for the right word. “She struggled after that.”
Kori’s throat tightened. She hated thinking of her sister struggling. Yet her sister had betrayed her. The conflicting emotions clashed inside her.
“She wasn’t the same for a while,” he continued.
Kori held his gaze, trying to decide what she felt—anger, regret, something else entirely.
Flint seemed to come back to himself then, like he’d stepped further into this conversation than he intended.
“I didn’t know she was out here,” he said. “If I had . . .”
She waited for him to finish. When he didn’t, she asked, “If you had what?”
He raked a hand through his hair and sighed. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It feels like it does.”
“I’m glad you’re here,” he said instead. “She needs you.”
That, at least, felt true.
He stepped back. “Take care of yourself out there.”
Then he turned and walked toward his truck.
Kori watched him go, her thoughts louder than before.
Not clearer.
Just heavier.