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in, tears brimming in her eyes. “Because, that flight attendant? She…she didn’t make it.” Scott swore as Mike laid a hand on Scott’s arm, the uncharacteristic gesture raising the hairs on the back of Scott’s neck. “They haven’t found Emily yet, either.”
    For a moment, he couldn’t speak. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t, for the first time in his life, make a decision. Try to find his sister or go back for Christina? Honor a promise he’d only made a few minutes ago, or his duty to family?
    Frowning, Scott glanced back over his shoulder, then sighed. Meeting his brothers’ gazes, he asked, “Where was Em when the storm hit?”
    “Over there, talking to Aunt Virginia,” Victoria said, pointing to where the lounge had been, then shuddering. “But then, so was I, and I ended up way the heck over there.” Her arms folded across her ribs, she nodded toward the other side of the building, then started to cry. “Oh, God—what if Em’s…”
    She burst into sobs as Blake wrapped one arm around her shoulders, a moment before a shout went up from about twenty feet away.
    “We got her!”
    Scott and the others picked their way through the wreckage as fast as they could, getting to Emily right as the rescuers pulled her free. Like the rest of them, she was dirty and debris-ravaged, but, other than a wonky ankle, she seemed none the worse for wear.
    Physically, at least. Because Scott wondered what sort of psychological toll the last fifteen, sixteen hours would have on all of them, none of whom had ever been through anything even remotely life-threatening before. Certainly he would never be the same, he thought as he made his way back to where he and Christina had spent that long, cold, miserable night, only to find that she, too, was already gone.
    “Where?” he asked a state trooper on the scene.
    “Same place they took everybody else. San Antonio Memorial.” The trooper looked over at his brothers and cousin. “Y’all need a ride?”
    “I…I don’t know.” Forking a hand through his hair, Scott scanned the surreal landscape. “The cars—”
    “All totaled,” the trooper said gently. “Except for that Escalade over there. Some dings and scrapes, but otherwise intact. Probably drives okay. Strange, how these things happen. I’ve seen entire blocks wiped out, except for one house left standing, untouched.”
    Away from the mangled building by now, the officer nodded toward the SUV, which did indeed look virtually unscathed. “A rental, I’m guessing from the license plate.”
    Scott nodded, his throat constricting. Around them, lights flashed, radios squawked from assorted emergency vehicles. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Mike climbing into one of the ambulances, its siren bloop-blooping as it started away. “Yeah. Ours,” he finally got out as he took in the crushed Explorer lying on its side.
    “Then you’ll be wanting these,” the trooper said, digging in his pocket and handing over the keys. “They were in the ignition, so I figured I’d better take ’em. Not that I expect anybody to come out here looking for trouble, but you never know.”
    Scott nodded his thanks, then said, “My brothers, they said…” His stomach turned. “Javier Mendoza? Do you have any idea where he is?”
    The grave, compassionate expression in the man’s gray eyes said far more than Scott wanted to hear. “That must be the guy they got to first, lying right past the doorway. He’s probably already at the hospital by now, they can tell you more when you get there.”
    The man rested a hand on Scott’s shoulder. “You okay, son? That bruise on the side of your head bothering you any—?”
    “I’m fine. Or will be, soon enough. Thank you.”
    The trooper’s radio crackled; with a wave he walked away, the same moment a reedy, but surprisingly strong, voice called out.
    “Oh, Scotty—thank God you’re all right!”
    Forcing a smile for his mother, Scott made his way through the angled