They kept their promise and came back a week later: same hour, same path, same number—Deputy Kline, Rangers Morales and Chu, the three hikers, and this time a fourth person, a woman carrying a hard case with a red cross sticker peeling at the corner.
Kline introduced her before anyone asked. “County EMT, Mae Delgado. She’s our medic on-call for backcountry searches. I told her to pack for blisters and bee stings, not bullets.”
Mae nodded once, taking in faces, fences, the wolves posted in pairs along the inner line. “If I treat someone, I chart it,” she said without preamble. “I don’t write fiction. If that’s a problem, tell me now.”
Moira stepped forward with a clipboard thick with paper. “It isn’t a problem. It’s the point. We’ll agree on what goes in the chart: date, time, complaint,
