Page 79

The look on Ember’s face... for the first time in my life, I can’t read her at all. But I feel Zander’s hand wrapping around my elbow, feel the waves of shock and confusion emanating from him as he turns me toward the hotel concierge desk behind which a muted television is showing—showing?—

Showingus.

Right here, right now, standing in this very foyer.

I whip my head around, searching for a camera, but there’s nothing. I don’t understand what I’m seeing, don’t understandhowI’m seeing it, orwhy, but before I can utter a single question, Zander’s grip tightens, his face flooding with disbelief as he looks toward Scarlett once again.

Gabe is beside her now, but he’s not the reason for Zander’s reaction.

No, it’s the two other people who have appeared, both smiling just as tentatively as Scarlett.

My blaring alarms become instant, deafening silence.

Because Hawke and Bentley are here.

And there’s not a broken bone in sight.

“What the hell is going on?” I breathe the words, unable to believe what I’m looking at.WhoI’m looking at.

I can feel Charlie’s stunned shock like it’s my own—because itismy own—but she pulls herself together before I do and tugs me toward the center of the foyer. Ember and the man who I assume is Charlie’s stepdad stick to our sides like glue, but I barely notice them, too distracted by the small group in front of us.

Hawke and Bentley—I can’t wrap my head around them being here. They’re meant to be awaiting rescue at the bottom of a mountain, not standing before us without crutches or a cast or anything else to show that one of them was ever hurt.

A sinking feeling hits me and I glance suspiciously at my agent, but there’s nothing in Gabe’s expression to indicate whether or not my growing fears are valid, so I return my focus to the other three, waiting on an explanation.

“Before we answer your questions,” Scarlett starts, “do either of you require any urgent medical attention? You had a number of close calls that we didn’t anticipate, so let us know if you need to get checked over now, or if you can wait until after we talk.”

I become as still as a statue at her words, since they make me recall what Ember cried to Charlie upon our arrival:You nearly died! And Zanderdiddie!

Dread pools in me as a premonition takes root, and I look to the concierge desk again, my eyes on the television screen that’s no longer showing us standing here, but something else entirely.

I hear Charlie’s voice as if from far away, asking how Scarlett knows about our close calls. I reach for her numbly, turning her toward the television for the second time so she can see the answer for herself.

A news report is on, the journalist sitting in front of a screen that begins to play a highlight reel of footage taken on the early days of our trip, from us jumping out of the helicopter to rappelling down the cliff, navigating the first slot canyon and its crawl space, the Tyrolean traverse across the ravine, the rock climbing up the mountain, and flashes of everything between.

But it doesn’t end there.

Because it then shows the mudslide.

And us landing in the pool at the base of the mountain.

I have only one thought as I watch us scrambling through the muddy shallows: Bentley lost his camera in the fall, so this footage shouldn’t exist.

Nor should any of the footage that comes next:

Charlie and me venturing forth on our own.

Our waterfall plummet into the raging river.

Her giving me CPR and saving my life.

Us cuddling under the stars.

The underwater tunnel and her near-drowning.

Our mad dash across the collapsing suspension bridge.

Charlie saving my life—again—and me lying on top of her, our lips moving ever closer.