A man near the back spoke up. “We’re losing daylight. We’ll break an ankle out here.” His voice was weary, not cruel. A few others murmured agreement. Lisa turned, ready to plead, but their eyes said it all. They were tired. She couldn’t blame them.
Slowly, reluctantly, they started turning back. Some offered quiet apologies. One woman squeezed Lisa’s shoulder, her eyes wet. “I hope you find her,” she said. Lisa nodded, unable to reply. She didn’t have the words. She only had one goal left—to keep going.