“Hey,” he called, keeping his voice steady. “Hey, sweetheart. Look at me. Don’t look down. Just focus on me, okay?”
Her eyes locked onto his, wide with terror.
“I’m scared,” she sobbed. “I can’t hold on.”
Behind him, the Iron Ridge Riders were already moving—blocking traffic, pulling ropes, barking commands—but none of it mattered yet.
Because as the girl shifted her grip, her sleeve slid back.
And Caleb saw it.
A small blue mark on her wrist.
His breath caught painfully.
His hands began to shake.
PART 2: THE MARK MEANT TO BE FORGOTTEN
Caleb stared at the mark as if the mountain might erase it if he looked away.
A faded blue crescent, uneven and imperfect—the kind drawn by a careful but shaking hand. Not a hospital band. Not a child’s sticker.
Something intentional.
Something personal.
Something he hadn’t seen in almost ten years.
“No…” he whispered.
The girl heard the change in his voice immediately.
“What?” she cried. “What’s wrong?”
Caleb forced himself to breathe. He crawled closer to the edge, spreading his weight low, careful not to send more dirt sliding down.
“Nothing’s wrong,” he said quickly. “You’re doing great. Just hold on.”
Rain started again—cold and thin—soaking into the soil, making everything feel unstable.
A rope was anchored behind him. Someone shouted that rescue teams were on the way. Someone warned him not to rush.
Caleb didn’t answer.
Because the past was screaming louder than the storm.
“What’s your name?” he asked, reaching toward her.
“Lily,” she sobbed. “My name’s Lily.”
“Okay, Lily,” he said softly. “I’ve got you. Just a little longer.”
Her grip slipped.
Caleb lunged forward, grabbing her wrist just in time. The rope snapped tight as the riders behind him braced, becoming his anchor. Lily clutched him now, shaking violently.
“My mom told me not to hide the mark,” she whispered. “She said it helps people remember.”
Caleb’s chest tightened.
“Your mom?” he asked.
“She said my dad was brave,” Lily continued. “She said he rides motorcycles.”
The world tilted.
“What’s your mom’s name?” Caleb asked, already knowing.
“Emma Hayes,” Lily said quietly.
Caleb closed his eyes.
Emma.
The woman he left behind.
The life he walked away from.
The child he was never told he could know.
With a strained groan, Caleb lifted Lily fully into his arms as the riders hauled them back onto solid ground. Lily buried her face in his jacket, gripping him like he might vanish if she let go.