My eyes narrowed as she spoke. I studied Fiona, and as I looked at her sympathetic expression, something clicked in my mind.
I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. There wasn’t enough evidence there beyond personal distrust for the woman, but my maternal senses were tingling. She knew something.
For a moment, I almost said something about it. I wanted to confront her then and there, ask if she was involved in my son’s disappearance. But I held my tongue, because I really had no proof, and it might just make matters worse than they needed to be right now if I confronted her.
I was going to keep an eye on her, though. That was for sure.
The four of us moved deeper into the woods. Fiona kept pace easily, chattering away to Gideon. Whatever she said, I couldn’t hear it. Her voice was lost below the sound of the rain and the wind.
I glanced at Gideon, though, and noticed the tension in his jaw and shoulders. He wasn’t really listening to her, either. His eyes were fixed on the forest floor, scanning the ground for tracks, and he didn’t even bother replying to whatever Fiona was saying with a nod or a shrug.
The rain was coming down properly now, heavy and cold, drumming on the leaves overhead and running down the back of my neck. Lightning flickered somewhere far off in the distance, followed by a slow roll of thunder that shook the air. The beam of my flashlight caught the rain in little white streaks.
“Bjorn!” I called out. My voice bounced off the trees and went unanswered.
“Bjooorn!”
Nothing.
Gideon had moved ahead of the group, flashlight cutting wide arcs through the dark. He called Bjorn’s name every few minutes, cupping his hands around his mouth to make it carry further. He checked the ground as he walked, crouching every so often to look at something in the underbrush.

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