Chương 3
The first injury after an accident was usually caused by impatience.
The disaster happened.
Then people made it worse trying to escape it.
She forced herself to breathe.
Her left shoulder was damaged.
Not broken, she thought.
She hoped.
Her ribs were bruised.
Her right hand was bleeding where the harness had cut into her palm.
She had limited movement.
No radio.
No locator.
No way to call for help.
The smart choice was to stay where she was.
The smart choice was also impossible.
The cliff face offered no comfortable position, and the fog was already thickening around her.
If the temperature dropped after sunset, she would not last long.
Mara looked at the badge again.
She hated that it mattered.
She hated that curiosity was still stronger than fear.
But she had built her career around one uncomfortable truth.
When something did not make sense, there was usually a reason.
She adjusted the backup strap.
Then she started moving.
Every inch hurt.
She used the knife to create a temporary grip point in a soft section of moss-covered wood above her.
The movement was slow.
Embarrassingly slow.
A younger version of herself would have been frustrated by it.
The version hanging on a cliff understood something different.
Survival was not impressive.
It was repetitive.
It was doing small things correctly while every part of you wanted to panic.
Her fingers reached the branch.
It shifted.
Mara froze.
The branch groaned.
She held still until the movement stopped.
Then she reached again.
Her fingertips touched the badge.
She grabbed it.
The branch snapped.
The fall was only a few feet.
But the impact against the cliff sent pain through her shoulder.
She bit down hard enough to taste blood.
For several seconds, she stayed there.
Then she pulled herself back toward the harness line.
The badge was still in her hand.
She almost laughed.
Not because anything was funny.
Because after everything Daniel had done, after falling from a helicopter and hanging over the ocean, she had nearly injured herself worse chasing a piece of plastic.
She looked at the badge.
Evan Calder.
Northline Compliance.
Expiration date: three years earlier.
The photograph looked younger than the person described in the records.
That bothered her.
Records were supposed to age with people.
People did not usually age backward.
A sound moved through the fog.
Mara stopped.
At first she thought it was the ocean.
Then she heard it again.
A mechanical sound.
Far away.
The helicopter.
She looked upward.
Nothing.
Only clouds.
The sound faded.
She waited.
A minute passed.
Then another.
No rescue.
No return.
Whoever had been in that aircraft was not coming back for her.
The realization should have hurt more.
Instead, it created a strange calm.
Daniel had made choices.
Cole had made choices.
Now she had to make hers.
She tucked the badge into the inner pocket of her jacket.
Then she began searching for a route down.
The cliff was steep, but not impossible.
She found a narrow ledge leading toward a darker section of rock where trees grew close to the edge.
It was not safe.
It was simply less impossible.
By the time she reached the trees, her legs were shaking.
She collapsed against a trunk and waited.
The forest smelled like wet soil and cedar.
A normal smell.
That almost bothered her more than the fall.
The world had continued.
Birds moved through branches.
Water dripped from leaves.
Somewhere far away, a vehicle traveled along a road she could not see.
Everything kept going while her life had split into before and after.
She pulled out the small water pouch from her jacket.
It was half crushed.
Still usable.
She drank carefully.
Not because she was calm.
Because she knew panic wasted resources.
Her phone was gone.
Her wedding ring was still on her hand.
She looked at it for a long moment.
The ring had survived.
That felt unfair.
She almost removed it.
Almost threw it into the trees.
Instead, she kept it.
Not because it meant the same thing.
Because she was not ready to decide what it meant now.
A movement near the edge of the trees caught her attention.
Mara reached for the knife.
A man stepped out from behind a fallen tree.
He was older.
Maybe late fifties.
Wearing a rain jacket and carrying a small backpack.
He stopped when he saw her.
For a second, neither of them moved.
Then his eyes dropped to the badge in her hand.
Not her injuries.
Not the blood.
The badge.
His expression changed.
“You found it.”
Mara tightened her grip.
“Who are you?”
The man looked past her toward the cliff.
Then back at her.
“That depends.”
“On what?”
“Whether you came here because you know what happened.”
Mara said nothing.
The man took one careful step forward.
“I’m not trying to hurt you.”
“That is what people usually say right before they try.”
Something like regret crossed his face.
“You’re Daniel’s wife.”
She felt her body tense.
“How do you know that?”
The man looked at the badge.
“No one else would have that.”
“That doesn’t answer the question.”
He studied her for a moment.
Then he slowly removed his backpack and placed it on the ground.
“My name is Grant Hale.”
The name meant nothing.
That bothered her.
Everyone connected to Northline seemed to have a place in a story she had not been told.
Grant noticed her reaction.
“You don’t know me.”
“No.”
“That’s good.”
“Why?”
“Because if Daniel told you about me, we would already have a bigger problem.”
Mara kept the knife visible.
“What happened to the helicopter?”
Grant looked toward the sky.
His answer came slowly.
“I heard the impact.”
Mara’s heart stopped.
“What impact?”
Grant looked back at her.
“I heard the aircraft lose control.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
A silence passed.
Then he said, “I don’t know where it went.”
The answer felt incomplete.
May you like
Mara stepped closer.
“You were here.”
