Time seemed to stall. Samantha’s nails dug into her palms. Her chest ached from holding her breath. Then Alex turned and looked back at her. Relief spread across his face. “It’s not Pablo,” he said gently. “It’s a white squirrel.” The words cut through the fog like light.
Relief swept through her so suddenly, it almost knocked her over. It wasn’t Pablo. He was still out there. But the adrenaline that had kept her upright drained all at once, leaving her weak. Samantha sank onto a nearby rock, her face falling into her hands, overwhelmed by everything at once.