A silver fox curled around a compass star.
One of the fox’s ears was marked by a thin black line.
Theo forgot the storm.
He forgot the cinnamon roll.
He forgot that his mother had warned him not to bother strangers.
He slipped out of the booth.
Lorna noticed him crossing the café.
“Theo?”
He kept walking.
The conversation at the riders’ table faded.
The white-haired woman looked down at him.
“Can we help you, sailor?”
Theo stared at the oldest man’s forearm.
The man followed his gaze.
“You like the fox?”
Theo pointed.
“My mother has one.”
The man’s expression did not change immediately.
Then his fingers tightened around his coffee mug.
The woman beside him stopped smiling.
The rider with the knee brace slowly lowered the map.
The oldest man leaned forward.
“What kind of fox?”
“That one.”
Theo pointed again.
“Silver, with the star behind it. There’s a black mark on the ear.”
The man’s voice became very quiet.
“Where did you see it?”
“On her shoulder. She thinks I don’t know about it.”
No one at the table moved.
Lorna came out from behind the counter and rested a protective hand on Theo’s shoulder.
“He doesn’t mean any harm.”
“Neither do we,” the oldest rider said.
He looked at Theo as if the boy had opened a door that had been locked for years.
“What’s your mother’s name?”
“Camille Vale.”
The white-haired woman closed her eyes.
The broad man with the gray beard whispered a curse.
The rider wearing the knee brace pushed himself to his feet so quickly that the table shifted.
The oldest man stared at Theo.
“Camille?”
Theo stepped closer to Lorna.
“You know her?”
The man looked at the silver fox on his arm.
“I used to.”
“Was she a biker?”
A strange sound escaped the white-haired woman, halfway between a laugh and a sob.
The oldest man shook his head.
“No. Your mother was something much rarer.”
Before Theo could ask what that meant, headlights swept across the café windows.
A small blue car turned into the parking lot.
It moved slowly, one headlamp dimmer than the other.
Theo ran toward the door.
“That’s her.”
The riders rose together.
Outside, Camille Vale stepped from the car and lifted one arm against the rain.
She wore a dark green coat over blue medical scrubs. Her curls had escaped from a loose knot, and water streamed down her face. A canvas nursing bag hung from her shoulder.
She hurried across the parking lot.
When she opened the café door, wind and rain followed her inside.
“Theo, I’m so sorry. A tree came down near—”
She stopped.
The color drained from her face.
Her nursing bag slipped from her shoulder and struck the floor.
The oldest rider stood beside the table.
For several seconds, he and Camille simply stared at each other.
The storm filled the silence.
Finally, Camille whispered his name.
“Elias.”
Elias Ward gripped the back of a chair.
“I thought you were dead.”
Camille looked at the other riders.
At Mae Calder, the white-haired woman.
At Jonah Reese, whose damaged knee had never fully healed.
At Rourke Bell, the gray-bearded rider who was openly crying.
At Ben Mercer and Solomon Drake, who had been young apprentices the last time she had seen them.
“You weren’t supposed to find me,” Camille said.
Mae stepped forward.
“We spent eleven years trying.”
Theo looked from his mother to the riders.
“Mom?”
Camille seemed to remember that he was standing there.
She rushed to him and placed both hands on his shoulders.
“Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. They have your fox.”
Her eyes closed briefly.
When she opened them, Elias had moved closer.
Not threateningly.
Carefully.
As though approaching a wounded animal.
“Does he know?” Elias asked.
“No.”
“Camille, he deserves—”
“He deserves a normal childhood.”
Theo frowned.
“What don’t I know?”
Camille took his hand.
“We’re leaving.”
A burst of static came from the radio on the riders’ table.
Then a dispatcher’s voice broke through.
“Multiple reports of a vehicle off Old Quarry Road. Possible rollover near mile marker twelve. Emergency units delayed by flooding on the south access route.”
Every rider turned toward the radio.
Camille froze.
The dispatcher continued.
“Two occupants confirmed. One may be trapped. Caller reports smoke from the engine compartment.”
Elias reached for his jacket.
“Old Quarry Road is five minutes from here.”
“Not in this weather,” Lorna said. “That road is barely wide enough in daylight.”
Mae was already tightening her boots.
“We have rescue equipment.”
Camille glanced at the dark windows.
Then at Theo.
Then at the medical bag lying on the floor.
She closed her eyes, but only for a moment.
When she opened them again, the frightened woman who had entered the café was gone.
“Ben,” she said, “what’s in the red case?”