Chapter 1

The rock bit into my back, a sharp pain, then nothing.

Thanksgiving weekend. Mark Thorne, my supervisor, called it a "mandatory exploratory survey."

Devil's Gulch. A place nobody went.

My sister, Emily, tagged along. She wanted adventure.

Deep in the canyon, Mark said a rockslide cut off our route.

He pointed. "No signal here. Standard radios are useless."

Then he smiled, that charming, empty smile.

"But my personal sat phone works. And I have extra supplies."

He named a price. A high one. For each of us.

Emily was already on his side. She always resented me, my rules, my worry since Mom and Dad died.

She created a distraction, a shout, a sudden run towards a side path.

Or maybe Mark told her to.

I went after her. "Emily! Stop!"

Then Mark was there. Above me on the narrow ledge.

He didn't say anything. He just moved fast.

My climbing rope went slack. I felt the carabiner slip. Sabotaged.

I looked up. His face was the last thing I saw.

Then I was falling.

Darkness. Cold. The crevasse swallowed me.

I jolted awake.

My own bunk. The familiar scent of pine from the cheap park-issued mattress.

Sunlight streamed through the small window of the intern cabin.

My heart hammered against my ribs.

The fall. The cold. Mark. Emily.

It was a memory, vivid, terrifying.

I touched my face, my arms. No broken bones. No blood.

I looked at the calendar on the wall.

Three days.

Three days before the Thanksgiving trip to Devil's Gulch.

I was alive.

A second chance. The thought hit me like a physical blow.

I could stop it. I had to stop it.