“You all right, man?” Micah asked, his tone serious.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just…” He wouldn’t understand. Nobody would.
“I know, Griff.” Micah placed his hand on my shoulder. I didn’t bother trying to remove it. Micah wouldn’t budge. “We’ll find her. You’ve gotta believe that.”
“Alive or dead?” I whispered.
“Huh?”
“Yes, we’ll find her,” I lifted my eyes to the ceiling and blew out a frustrated breath. “But will it be alive or dead?”
 “She’s a fighter, Griffin. We’re going to bring her home.” Micah’s head twisted toward the kitchen as another cry rang out. He turned back to me and squeezed my shoulder. “We won’t stop until we do.” And then he was gone.
Of course we’d bring her home. I knew that. Leave no man behind. Dead or alive. Jesus, let her be alive.
I followed the sounds of laughter and made my way into the kitchen, pausing at the door and taking in the sight of my family. No one acknowledged my presence, and that suited me fine. Nell was putting some snacks out for everyone. Micah and Sadie each held a baby, swaying to calm them. Doc and Aiden sat at the bar shoveling food into their mouths as quickly as it hit the counter.
She should be here.
I rubbed the ache in my chest as I walked the rest of the way into the space.
“Finally.” Nell winked to soften the comment.
“Sorry,” I mumbled to no one in particular. No one acknowledged the apology, nor had I expected them to. I knew they weren’t angry with me for my broodiness, and certainly, they had an idea of the cause. With our shared past, most of us had PTSD, causing some off days. Sure, I’d been cranky and anti-social more than usual, but they understood why. Partially, anyway.
The next hour was as close to fun as it could get. We ate, joked, laughed, and ribbed each other. We talked about our time together in the Navy Seals, regaling Sadie with more stories than she probably wanted to hear. It all felt so…normal.
She should be here.
As Doc was reminiscing about his first day with the BRB, my phone vibrated in my pocket. I ignored it, wanting to stay present in the moment. When it vibrated again, and again, I gave in and took it out of my jeans. After swiping my finger over the screen, I punched in the passcode, and my stomach dropped as I read text messages from Jackson, the Sheriff.
 
Jackson: Possible break in the case.
Jackson: We need you. Be at my office in half an hour.
Jackson: Where are you?
Jackson: Call me, dammit!