“Keep communication lines open with the rescue leads,” Eric said.

“Already on it, sir,” Phillips replied.

The digging continued. Every now and then, a shout rang out—another survivor found.

Eric knelt beside the wreckage of a collapsed wall, his gloves muddy as he clawed through debris. Suddenly, he heard a faint cry. He reached in and gripped a trembling arm, hauling the person out.

“Ahhh… thank you… oh, thank you…”

Something in the tone struck Eric—too familiar. He quickly wiped at the man’s face—and froze.

“Elvin?”

The man blinked at him, wide-eyed. “Mr. Scott?! You—what are you—”

“You idiot!” Eric roared, grabbing Elvin by the collar and nearly lifting him off the ground. “Why wasn’t the program held at the hotel? Why were they sent to that wreck of a site?”

He shook him once, fury barely restrained. “Do you even understand how important she is? How could you let this happen? If the program had been held back at the hotel—she would have been safe!”

“Mr. Scott! Ah…” Elvin winced, his battered face contorted with pain. “It—it was Lisa’s idea! She said the site had more space… We didn’t know this would happen! We couldn’t have predicted—”

His eyes widened in panic. “Hadley hasn’t been found yet? Oh no… what do we do now?”

The panic broke him. He started sobbing, loud and messy, his cries rising with the storm. “Hadley, please… please be okay!”

Eric stared at him—muddy, weeping, pitiful. His temples pounded from the sheer noise and frustration.

Let your mind wander with g?lnσν?s﹒

“Get out of my sight!” he shouted, shoving Elvin hard enough that he stumbled back.

“Ahhh—”

Phillips rushed in to steady Elvin, waving at the medics. “We’ve got another one here!”

As Elvin was dragged away, Phillips glanced at Eric’s stiff back. The tension radiating off him was suffocating. “Mr. Scott…” he said gently, falling in step behind him. “Let us do the digging. You—supervise, guide, stay sharp. Please.”

Eric didn’t seem to hear. “Hadley…” he whispered under his breath, voice barely audible.

Then he did something unexpected. His left hand rose and gripped his right wrist tightly—right where he always wore it. The bracelet. A simple band, worn and frayed. Attached to it was a small peach pit whistle—something Hadley had carved and gifted him long ago.

The minutes dragged by like hours. It had now been five hours since she’d gone missing.

Then suddenly—without a word—Eric yanked the bracelet off. Clutching it tightly in one hand, he brought the whistle to his lips. He closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, and blew. A long, clear note pierced their ears.

Phillips and Tamara froze, eyes locked. If they didn’t find Hadley soon, they feared Eric wouldn’t last much longer.

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