Page 12 of Mountain Void

“Please, Lorenz,” she repeated, her voice softer now. “Please.”

Lorenz forced himself to think like a professional, not a man who’d just had his past shoved in front of him. She was right. What she was saying made sense.

“Stay with me,” he said quietly, already turning away. “Call out his name. But keep your voice calm.”

He saw her wince and knew he shouldn’t have added that last part. Charlie knew how to talk to children.

Gravel crunched under their shoes. Lorenz moved automatically, running through the list of blind spots. Gaps. Anywhere a small child could slip behind or crawl into.

“Théo,” she called, steady despite the tremor he could hear underneath. “It’s Ms. Charlie. Please come out. It’s okay.”

They passed the first hangar. Too open. A child wouldn’t choose that as a hiding spot.

Lorenz angled them toward the row of helicopters instead. He checked beneath the nearest fuselage. Nothing.

“Théo,” Charlie tried again. “You’re not in trouble.”

Despite himself, Lorenz turned to look at her.

Her hands were clenched at her sides, shoulders tight, but she kept moving forward and calling out to the boy, her voice kind.

They reached the third helicopter.

That’s when he saw it.

A shadow where there shouldn’t have been one.

Lorenz lifted a hand. Charlie stopped immediately.

He reached for the recessed handle on the side door. It was already partially open—something he should have noticed earlier.

Lorenz stepped quickly up into the helicopter.

The cabin was dim; the smell of fuel and cold metal familiar. His eyes took a moment to adjust along the seats, the empty floor.

Then—a small shift behind the second row of seats.

“Théo,” Lorenz said calmly.

Silence answered him.

“I know you’re back there,” he went on, voice low, unhurried. “Don’t worry. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

He crouched, lowering himself so he wouldn’t loom over the boy.

“Can you come out? A lot of people out here are worried.”

Nothing.

Lorenz glanced back toward the open door. Charlie stood just inside, hands clasped tightly together.

“Your teacher’s right here. You don’t want her to worry, do you?”

Finally, movement. A small head peeked out from behind the seats.

The boy seemed younger than the others. Smaller. His brown eyes huge in his narrow, elfin face.

“Ms. Charlie?”