Page 10 of Nothing But Air

Virgil kept talking. “We have until Monday night to put it all in place. That is less than seventy-two hours to reassign jobs and get barriers in place. All backcountry permits are revoked starting tonight. That’s all for now.”

The moment Virgil stepped away from the podium, the meeting dissolved into chaos—voices overlapped, questions hurled. Eden stayed frozen.

Liam appeared at her shoulder. “Eden. You okay?”

Was she okay?

Sure. Job evaporated, life in shambles, main accomplishment today was yelling at the guy everyone considered a hero. Peachy.

“I’m fine.” The lie hung between them. “I will be. Eventually.”

“If you need anything?—”

“I need to figure out what I’m doing with my life.” She stood abruptly. “That’s what I need.” She walked past the stunned rangers. Past Teague, still sitting motionless, staring at nothing.

The sun slanted through the windows, making dust glint in the air. Outside, the Grand Canyon stretched in impossible beauty—miles of layered rock in rust and ocher and gold. Trails that would soon be locked behind barriers. A wilderness that didn’t care about treasure hunters or protocols or the fragile plans of one broken dispatcher.

Eden pushed open the door and stepped into the afternoon air.

The breeze carried sage and distant pine. Adrenaline still rushed through her—but not because of Teague’s jump anymore.

Every plan she’d made had just crumbled to dust.

Just like right before she’d landed at the Grand Canyon.

No stability. Nothing solid. At the mercy of circumstances she couldn’t control.

She stood at the edge of the parking lot, dry air biting her cheeks.

She couldn’t go back.

But she didn’t know where she’d find the courage to go forward.

Two

You decided his life was more important than yours.

Nine words. That’s all it took to rip him wide open.

The suspicion had haunted the edges of every rescue for five years, but Teague had never let it form into words. Not until Eden spoke.

Ever since Chip’s accident, he’d been convincing himself that his recklessness was courage. That throwing himself off cliffs and into collapsing mines made him a hero. That if he saved enough people, moved fast enough, reached far enough—maybe he could outrun the ghost that followed him into every rescue.

Funny thing about almost dying though. It never stuck.

Teague had walked away from avalanches, cave-ins, flash floods. Had watched death reach for him and miss. But God seemed determined to keep him breathing no matter how hard he pushed.

Chip hadn’t been so lucky.

And now Eden—with her sharp eyes and sharper words—had seen right through him.

Teague stood at the conference-room window, watching Superintendent Virgil disappear into the office one building over. The afternoon sun beat through the glass. Behind him, the other rangers sat in stunned silence—the wreckage of Virgil’s announcement scattered across the table in trail-closure maps and reassignment forms.

Less than seventy-two hours. That’s all they had before the Grand Canyon’s North Rim shut down completely.

Anya broke first. “This is insane. We’ve handled treasure hunters before.”

“Not like this.” Noah shifted in his seat, one hand pressed to his side where the knife wound was still healing. Teague’s boss looked exhausted—six-foot-four and hunched as if the weight of the canyon had finally gotten to him. “Ever since that kid went on the news talking about the Roosevelt gold, we’ve had three hundred percent more incidents. Search and rescue is running on fumes.”