Grieving was reserved for the dead, and she had to keep reminding herself that Katie was not dead, but was alive somewhere and waiting to be found.
People came over and consoled her as a whistle blew, signaling that the volunteers should break up into their groups. She hastily thanked everyone, then made her way toward her group. She had no need to stand around and chitchat when there was so much ground to cover.
Everyone spread out and started walking into the woods. She opened her eyes and ears and looked for any sign of Katie and Willow. She couldn’t wait to bring her girl home. Then she’d never let her out of her sight.
* * *
Three hours later and still nothing. Her legs hurt and her stomach growled, but nothing would keep her from pushing forward. She stopped and pulled out her water bottle. On either side of her, she could see the other volunteers keeping pace. She couldn’t rest too long, but she needed a quick break in order to keep up her strength. She took a swig of water and stared up at the treetops and watched as a helicopter zipped by overhead. Then she stashed the water bottle back in her pack and resumed searching.
Ten minutes later she heard someone shouting. Her heart raced, and she froze, hoping it was a false alarm. But the shouting continued, and so she ran in the direction of the woman’s voice. A small crowd had gathered. Expecting the worst, Isla pushed her way through, only to realize that the woman was talking on her phone. She recognized Etta Perceval. Their eyes met, and Isla sensed something big was happening. Nervous, she put her hands to her mouth and prayed to God for a miracle.
“They found her, Isla. Your Katie’s alive.”
ISLA
“WHERE IS SHE?” HER HEART GALLOPED IN HER CHEST.
“Thatcher Road. By the bridge.”
What is she doing there?
She knew the exact location of that bridge. As kids, she and her friends used to jump off it and into the river on hot summer days. She took off running, dodging roots and rocks, leaves crackling underfoot. Her lungs burned, but she didn’t care. Katie had been found alive; she had known all along she would be. She couldn’t believe how fortunate she was to have her daughter back. But what about Willow? Had they found her, as well?
She ran out of the woods and sprinted toward her car. Reporters stood around their vans, drinking coffee and trading small talk. As soon as they saw her, they rushed forward, understanding that something big had happened. She reached her minivan, jumped in, and prayed it would start. She turned the key and heard the engine whimper. After she pumped the gas pedal, it roared to life. She sped past the vans and headed toward Thatcher Road.
The roads were empty as she sped along them. The speedometer read eighty, though she was driving in a forty-miles-per-hour zone. In the rearview mirror, she saw the caravan of news vans trying to keep up with her. Her pulse raced, and she struggled to breathe, as well as to keep the minivan from swerving over the yellow line.
She turned down Thatcher Road and accelerated under the canopy of trees until she saw Turner Bridge up ahead. A police car sat parked on the shoulder right before the bridge. She pulled up to the bridge and saw a young cop blocking her path. She jumped out of the minivan with the motor running and sprinted toward him. She was about to ask the whereabouts of her daughter when she saw Swisher standing on the other side of the bridge and holding Katie in his arms. Where the hell had he come from?
She stood there in shock, staring at the two of them and trying not to feel jealous. Katie sobbed uncontrollably against her father’s chest. The sweatshirt she had on was ripped, as if she she’d been savagely attacked, and her face looked so bloodied that she appeared almost unidentifiable. Isla didn’t know whether to be happy that Katie had been found or pissed off that Swisher had been the one to arrive at Katie’s side first.
None of that matters now. What matters is that Katie’s alive.
Before she could move, a slew of reporters and camera crews pushed past her. They set up at spots along the bridge and began to film the father-daughter reunion. The reporters seemed momentarily speechless at the sight of Katie sobbing. Isla knew this dramatic