I slide my key into the lock, the familiar scent of paper, dust, and camera gear instantly greeting me.
Home base. Sanctuary.
Sort of.
I drop my bag by the desk and take a breath. Then another. Then I open the photo editor and start scrolling through the memory card from the day I fell.
My fingers slow as a picture comes into view. There they are…the Mexican spotted owls, perched high on a branch, golden light slicing through the canopy behind them.
My lucky shot.
I remember the moment so vividly…the sense of awe, the click of the shutter, the feeling like something magical was happening.
Before everything changed. Before I plummeted off a ledge.
Before Zack.
Zack.
God, my chest aches just thinking about him. His voice. The way he looked at me like I was something precious. The way he made me feel like I could be brave.
And then he left.
I mean, I get it. He had to. His job’s intense, dangerous. I told myself I understood. That I shouldn’t expect more. I shouldn’t expect him to waltz in here like some Prince Charming after combing the whole town for me.
But I do.
I do.
And I hate that I do.
I blink back the burn behind my eyes and scrub a hand over my face. “Get it together, girl,” I mutter, turning back to the screen and dragging the next image into the editor.
Another owl picture.
It really is the perfect shot. I was so close to them, and the light was so dramatic with that storm rolling in. I can almost see their feathers ruffling slightly in the wind.
I open a new tab and pull up the submission page for the wildlife photography competition I’ve been daydreaming about for weeks.
My internship only lasts a few more months. And this competition could open a lot of doors for me.
I’ve been too anxious to submit anything, sure that my portfolio didn’t have anything good enough.
Not anymore.
Digging deep, I summon the bravery that Zack somehow saw in me, and I submit the photo of the owls.
Elated, I go to message Tessa, only for my eyes to fall on a news headline. My heart stops, and I click through to the article without breathing. Hotshots injured in a controlled burn that got out of hand. No deaths. Two hospitalized.
My stomach lurches, and I grab the edge of my desk, feeling dizzy.
What if…
What if I haven’t heard from Zack because he’s…
Unable to even finish the thought, I jump up and head to the door. I’ll just have to go to the hospital and see if I can find him.
But when I open the door, I stop in my tracks.