Caro and I stay put. We don't know the woods as well as Stéphane. Over the sound of cicadas, I hear Stéphane shouting Bastien's name. The darkness is creeping in, further and further, and before I know it, it is past midnight and we have no sign of him.

Soon enough, the sound of cicadas is drowned by rain. It begins soft, pattering against the earth in a light drizzle. I go and stand on the porch, arms crossed and water droplets landing on my sleeves as I reach an arm out.

By the time Stéphane comes back in huffing, hes drenched.

"I don't know where he is," he exhales, hiccupping as he tries to catching his breath.

I get up and start to pace around the room. Caro has curled herself in tighter on her spot on the sofa.

"We need to call someone," I say.

"I can get the park rangers," Stéphane decides. He leaves the room, I imagine to grab his radio and get a hold of someone.

"It's been an hour," Caro looks over at me. "Where could he have gone? Why won't he pick up his phone?"

Thunder rumbles above us. Then, it really starts to pour April showers, but it never flowers in May. The ground is too waterlogged. Lightning flashes.

I step back out onto the porch. "Bastien. Bastien! Come back now!"

I can't even make out what Caro says behind me. Thunder claps and she shrieks. Lightning whites out the woods, no counting between the storm. I take in a deep breath and spin back inside.

In the boy's bank, Stéphane is calling out on the radio. Another voice comes through as static. Thunder claps. The lightning is bright. I go into Stéphane's park ranger bag. He tries to shoo me off mid-conversation, but I grab a bundled-up rain poncho and a flashlight and duck out of the room.

Caro blocks me in the hallway, "where are you going?"

"To flash SOS on the porch," I say. "He might see it through the storm."

She buys it, thankfully, mostly because it's true. I do just as I promise: wearing the rain poncho, standing on the porch, and shouting out my brother's name between flashing lights.

Dot-dot-dot. Dash-dash-dash. Dot-dot-dot.

Dot-dot-dot. Dash-dash-dash. Dot-dot-dot.

After a while, my fingers begin to ache. The flashing lighting keeps interrupting the pattern. I circle around the back of the house and I do it there too. My feet go numb from the cold. If Bastien could see a distress symbol, he would come. I'm sure of it.

Stéphane runs out beside me, an umbrella overhead. He's tucked as close to the house as possible.

"Cole!" my name sounds like he's calling it all the way from Québec. "Get inside. It's going to be a flash flood, they think."

"He's out there!" I shout, stepping in closer.

"The on-duty are checking nearby caves and alcoves," Stéphane yells back, even though we are so close. "Everything within five miles. He's smart. He'll have found shelter or higher ground."

I nod my head, "he's too far, isn't he?"

"We've got people out there looking," Stéphane calls, pointing out into the woods.

I nod my head and follow Stéphane back into the house. Caro is tending to the fire, up close to it, sweat beading on her forehead. I duck into our room. Despite the poncho, my legs are soaked completely through. I struggle into my pajamas, teeth chattering. There's a chance. However small, there is a chance and so I call him.

One dial tone. Two. Three.

"Hello?" Spencer's groggy voice comes through the speaker. He sounds just as fuzzy as the radio.

"Bastien is missing," I say. "I need to know what happened to him. What did he tell you on Christmas?"

"What?"

"He's missing!" I wipe a tear off my face. "There's a flash flood and he's stuck in the woods somewhere. I need you. If you're not able to help with profiling, I... I just. I can't lose you."

The line is quiet. The storm. Did he catch any of that? Did I lose him entirely?

"And it's not just because you're good at your job, because you're the best," I swallow, praying he can hear me. "There's a flash flood and Bastien's run off and everything's going on in my life, and usually you are the only thing that is right. I don't know how I ever let myself make you think otherwise but I want you by my side."

"I'll be there in an hour."

My eyes widen, "wait, Spencer-"

The phone clicks off. I look out the window as thunder crashes above us. Lightning strikes on the ground nearby. I bite my lip and nearly smash my phone on the road.

I head back out to the living room. Caro is curled into a ball on the sofa. Stiing on the floor, Stéphane hangs over an outstretched map. He grabs the red pen on the carpet next to him and draws and X on the bottom left corner of the map. We're near there, our cabin's location circled in blue and then a wider circle drawn around it. Then, an even bigger, red circle around that.

He presses down a button on the radio, "he wouldn't be in the nearby east caves," Stéphane presses the button on the radio. "If he was, he would've passed where we rock=-climbed today, and he'd be trying to head back rather than wait it out. Over."

A voice crackles back, "let's not rule it out. He could be injured. Over."

I hold my hand out and gesture for the radio. Stéphane cocks an eyebrow but passes it to me.

"This is Stéphane's sister. Unless he was gravely injured," I swallow, "he'd be trying to get back to us. Bastien is as stupid as he is resilient. He's almost definitely lost or stuck."

I click off the radio and Stéphane quickly steals it back, "over."

We sit in the quiet, listening. There are three teams out there. Stéphane keeps crossing out more and more caves, but for every one crossed there are a dozen more.

"How good is his memory?" Stéphane whispers to me.

I shrug, "he's an ex-military engineer with a mild concussion. He could be anywhere from infallible to completely unreliable. With this much water, I'm just... I'm trying to think."

"Take your time."

"Just... there are too many variables at play. If his phone's still not being answered, it could have died, but he also might have thrown it or fallen and broke it. I imagine you are right though, and that he isn't somewhere that he recognizes."

Stéphane uncaps the blue pen, "Caro, how's his recovery?"

Caro sits up, "he's good. No memory issues, but he's still got coordination problems."

"He wouldn't climb in the storm," I manage. "No paths with rock walls. Even he's not that dumb, so unless he was desperate, I wouldn't consider paths that involve rock climbing which he would've encountered after the storm started."

Stéphane mumbles to himself, counting miles, estimating his path on foot, whispering about inclines.

"If he had a choice," Stéphane hovers over an area with several caves.

"A big one," I say. "He'd want space to move. He's probably freezing out there, and I bet he's panicking. I don't imagine he'd pick a claustrophobic space.

Stéphane circles a final cave. Then, he picks up the radio.

"We're thinking three caves, but each is in a different quadrant," he says. "It's inconvenient I know, but my sister is a profiler with the FBI. Over."

Before anyone can respond, I speak, "I'm not a profiler."

Infamously so.

They radio back, and Stéphane explains our reasoning. He has a finger to his lips moking shushing me as he talks and he gives the coordinates for the caves. I join Caro on the sofa, curling up my legs into myself tightly.

"We know him better than anyone," she whispers. "It's what happens when you're raised by the same crazy parents."

I force myself not to laugh. She's never admitted before that our mother and father were anything short of perfect.

The search party find him in the second cave, the one Stéphane circled on my advice.

"Put him on," Stéphane says. The rest of us gather around to listen.

His voice crackles through like static, "I'm alright. Thanks."

The three of us look at each other. Stéphane is the one who answers, "it's fine. Just come on back now."

It's already closing in on two, and Caro is exhausted though she won't admit it. She starts to pace, trying to keep her drooping eyes awake. Stéphane now curls up on the couch, and soon enough he is snoring. I am the one who tends the fire, watching the flames lick and lick.

There is a knock at the door. Caro beats me to it.

On the other side, Spencer stands, soaking wet. I stand up as he steps inside, one and then another. He drops his go-bag on the floor.

"What are you doing?" I hiss. It had slipped my mind that he'd be here.

"Have you found him?" he asks.

I nod quickly.

"I'll get a towel," Caro hurries out of the room.

Stéphane is still asleep. I grab Spencer by his elbow and drag him back into the room I share with Caro. She passes me a towel and heads back to the main room.

On the tips of my toes, I press a kiss into Spencer's lips. He grips the sides of my face, fingers frozen, holding me in close to him. He's so cold, so not himself. I move my hand off his shoulder to grab the towel and he grabs it, clutching it in close to him. He deepens the kiss and I twist my head, following suit.

He smells like the wet fresh days of spring, and I slip my hand away, bringing it up to his neck. My pulse surely is jumping through my skin, but I can't feel his. I feel hot, burning, like a sacrifice. Finally, I pull back and grab the towel, passing it to him.

As he dries off, I shake my head, "how did you even get in the park at this hour? They don't let in people this late."

He reaches into the pocket of his khakis and pulls out his FBI badge. He gently puts it down against my bunk.

"And why are you wet?" I ask.

He shrugs, "my car got stuck in the mud. When the rain stops, I'm going to need you, Stéphane and... well, how is Bastien anyway. You said they found him. Have they managed to get back yet?"

I shake my head, "no, I thought you'd be him."

Then, I hear Caro squeal in the living room. That'll be him. She's giggling, and I can hear muffled laughter, probably Bastien's although his laugh is so remarkably like Stéphane's. I stand up tall to press a kiss into Spencer's temple.

"I'll be back," I promise.

In the living room, Stéphane is awake and drowsy, also hugging Bastien. He's had more time to dry off than Spencer so his clothes are completely dry. I move across the room and join in, hugging the three of them all at the same time.

"You're freezing," Caro manages, shivering when she pulls back from me. Then, she looks at Stéphane, "Spencer got here. I'm sleeping on the couch."

"We agreed no partners," Bastien crosses his arms.

I roll my eyes and punch his arm, lightly albeit. He pretends to wince dramatically.

"So, are you going to tell us what's going on?" Stéphane asks.

Bastien brushes him off, "let me change first at least, damn."

He slips from the room. I am wet now, the front of my shirt stained with the rainwater that consumed Spencer. I drag the go-bag back to the room Caro and I share, or at least that we are supposed to be sharing, so that he can change. Before he can thank me, Bastien is walking back into the main room.

"Fine," he whispers. "Here it goes."

~~~~~

Sorry! This is the first update I've missed for this whole thing, but I simply thought today was Tuesday! So so sorry. Anyway, four chapters left in this book and then the third and final book comes out! Any guesses what the title is going to be?