“Perfect timing,” he says to Carlos. “Get Finn emerging from the shared shelter. The rugged guide and the actress forced together by disaster—viewers will eat this up.”
“Put the camera down, Carlos,” I say, but my attention is on Elliott. My voice comes out harder than intended, but I don't care.
“But this is gold! The wilderness forcing proximity?—”
“I said, put it down. You're not filming our sleeping arrangements.”
Elliott's expression shifts between disappointment and calculation. “The audience connects with authentic moments. This expedition is about Lena's transformation, and your role in?—”
“This expedition is about surviving and completing the journey to Painted Peaks,” I cut him off, my voice harder than I intended. “Not manufacturing drama.”
I turn away from Elliott, jaw tight, and crouch by what’s left of our gear, sorting through the salvaged supplies and checking the fire ring for dry kindling. The silence stretches, broken only by the rustle of trees and a distant bird call.
The tent rustles behind me as Lena emerges, hair in a practical braid, her expression alert despite the early hour. Her eyes land on Carlos’s camera, and her expression hardens. “Seriously, Elliott?” She shakes her head.
“There are actual disasters to film. The flood destroyed half our camp. Focus on that rather than whatever narrative you're trying to construct.”
Elliott signals Carlos to lower his camera, though not with good grace. “Fine, fine. Trying to capture real moments.”
“Real would be filming our actual situation,” Lena says, stepping fully out of the tent. “Like how we're going to continue with half our supplies gone.”
She's right. Yesterday's flash flood tore through thevalley, washing out trails, destroying bridges, and sweeping away gear. We're lucky no one was injured or worse.
“We need to decide,” I say, addressing the group gathered around the dying fire. “Our planned route is gone. We have two options—head northeast on higher ground to reach Painted Peaks or turn back toward the lodge.”
“Northeast adds three days,” Elliott protests, checking his water-damaged clipboard. “The network has a timeline?—”
“The network isn't out here making life-or-death decisions,” I cut him off. “This isn't about ratings. It's about getting everyone home.”
I survey the group. Carlos's camera equipment looks half-ruined. The others look exhausted from yesterday's ordeal. Only Lena seems steady, focused.
“We push forward,” she says, surprising me. I watch her, trying to find any trace of the Hollywood princess who first arrived at my lodge. That woman has vanished. In her place stands someone I barely recognize—mud-streaked and disheveled, but somehow more present, more real, and beautiful.
“You sure about that?” I ask.
Her eyes meet mine without hesitation. “We didn't come this far to quit now.”
Elliott brightens. “Exactly! The show must go on!”
“This isn't about the show,” Lena says firmly. “It's about finishing what we started. On our terms.”
Our terms. When did this become about us instead of her versus me? Not sure, but I recognize the shift. It's as real as the destroyed landscape around us.
“Okay,” I decide, nodding to her before addressing the group. “We head northeast. Everyone pack only what they need. We travel light and fast.”
The group disperses to pack what's left of their gear. I turn toward our tent, but Lena is breaking it down with surprisingefficiency. Not the clumsy fumbling from our first days on the trail.
“You don't have to do that alone,” I say, joining her.
“I'm not helpless,” she replies, but without the edge her voice used to carry. “Besides, I've been watching you do this for days. About time I pulled my weight.”
“How's the ankle today?” I ask, seeing she's moving with more ease than yesterday.
She rotates her foot. “Almost good as new. Your willow remedy worked wonders.”
“Glad to hear it,” I say, surprised by how much her recovery matters to me. “Still, let me know if it gives you trouble on the climb up.”
She nods, then turns her attention back to the valley below. “It's beautiful,” she says, her voice low. “Even like this.”
