How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue

The convoy turned and drove away.

Elodie watched the lead car up ahead, realizing they had no idea where they were being taken.

But...

She glanced at her colleague's basic phone-not the smartest device, but good enough. She quickly sent Jarrod a few updates: their real-time location, the route, anything that could help.

To be safe, she sent some of the information to Esmeralda as well.

As soon as they got a signal, the messages would be delivered automatically.

On Esmeralda's end.

She'd been among the first group evacuated.

The chaos happened so suddenly she hadn't even gotten a chance to look for Elodie.

Now, anxiety kept her pacing, unable to sit still.

Elodie's phone had gone dark. Esmeralda had asked the person in charge here, but the answer was always the same: "Sorry, we're still coordinating and checking. The moment we have any news, you'll know right away."

"So, you're saying Elodie might still be trapped inside?" Her breath came quick and shallow, her eyes red from worry.

She was so agitated that the gash on her lower leg-scraped in her frantic escape -had started bleeding again.

care less about the pain, and kept asking the same question,

this time, we can't confirm

Esmeralda's hope

streamed down

matter how bad things got. Esmeralda couldn't stop imagining the

voices sounded

up and instantly spotted Fleming at

lifeline. Limping, she hurried toward him. "Fleming, where did you just come from? Do you know

eyes were cold and steady as he looked her over. Esmeralda was a mess-tear streaks mingled with the dust

was here to report on

her

that something had gone

this country, emergencies were the norm, but this time was different—a terrorist attack, right next to a

his sleeve, gripping so tightly her

a special-ops pilot; if anyone could fly in and

at her wrinkled shirt and answered in his

movement at all required

face went pale. "But this is an emergency, isn't

would still be a

stung like

loosened. "If it