This town was in shambles. 

Debris everywhere -- dust particles floating like semi-transparent snow, the houses torn and streets cracked. 

"Jesus." I say, my breath nearly caught in my throat at the sight. The sight is like one of those old black-and-white photographs you'd see in a museum -- an utter disaster -- but to me, it looks like a wound I thought I had closed. 

I remember just like yesterday the day I stepped out of that bathroom to see walls and structures of wood that had toppled on top of one another -- the photo frames that had previously been hung on my walls nothing but broken glass. The house I grew up in, destroyed. 

And when I look down at my hands, even now, 12 years later, it's like I can still see the shards of glass sticking out of the fragile palms of my hands, blood seeping onto the grass beneath me. It was the first time I had a panic attack from the sight of blood. The memory, it sends a shudder down my spine. 

"You okay?" Tyler asks me, concern etched in his green eyes. 

I nod but the hitch in my breath isn't very convincing, nor is the way I wipe the sweat off of my hands onto my jeans. "Fine." 

He nods as well and he opens his mouth to say something when we each hear a little boy and his father yell out for someone named Lucky. 

Tyler's boots quickly take to their aid. "You lookin' for someone?" 

The man nods. He's tall with salt and peppered hair but a youthful face, only a few wrinkles. "Our dog. Lost him in the storm." 

Tyler nods, no longer paying a bit of attention to me and immediately takes off to help the two, saying something thick in his accent but I can no longer hear because my focus drifts to a girl, just barely 4 foot and can't be any older than 10, dried tears staining her pale face. 

"Hey, darlin'," I say, walking toward her with a soft smile. 

She looks terrified. Her hands are trembling at her side and her eyes are unfocused, but bloodshot at that. 

Her red-rimmed eyes meet mine, and when they do, the worry in her eyes softens just the slightest. 

Once I reach her, I kneel down on both knees to be eye level with her. I take her shaking hand in mine and give it a squeeze. "You lookin' for your mama, sugar?" 

She looks at me for a long moment, tears threatening to spill out of those gorgeous brown eyes of hers. Her lips tremble as she speaks. "M - my mommy -- she..."  

I squeeze her small, oh so cold, hand again, looking up at her with encouragement to speak. 

"S - sh - she went out to look for my papa." 

I feel like I've just been punched in the gut. And I think she can see that too because a tear slips down her face and her eyes immediately go wide. 

"Are they dead?" is the first thing she asks me and it feels like I'm looking back at my younger self -- big brown doe eyes and long lacy blonde hair to go with them. And she's likely just lost both her parents to a tornado. 

I suck on my bottom lip for a moment, trying to contain the panic creeping up within me now. But it's not doing this little girl any good because her mouth goes agape and her face goes as white as a ghost. 

"Are - are they--" 

I shake my head, trying to shake my own feelings of anxiety. The sweaty palm of my hand caresses the side of her face, wiping her tears. "It's okay, babydoll." I offer her a smile, hoping to distract her from the fact that there's a pit in my stomach and all the hairs on my neck have risen. "We're going to find them."

She doesn't believe me. Hell, I wouldn't either. 

"What's your mama's name and what does she look like?" 

She swallows. "Hannah. She - she has yellow hair and she's really tall." 

I smile. "Good. And your dad?" 

"Steve. His hair is black and he has really blue eyes." 

"Good. Real good." My smile is shaking, so I can't hold it up for long as I stand back up, taking the girl's hand in mine and guiding her to where Lilly, Dani and Dexter stand at the booth of food and t-shirts. "Can I get a shirt for..." 

I realize I've forgotten to ask the little girl her name. 

"A kid's medium." I say, quickly recovering but still buzzing with nerves. 

Dani nods, handing me a shirt while Lilly hands me a box of snacks and a water bottle. "You okay, Dal?" 

I nod but it's the least convincing thing in the world because my entire body is practically shaking. "Yeah, um, can you go look for her parents?" 

Lilly nods immediately as I tell her what the little girl has told me and she takes off running. 

I escort the little girl to my electric blue truck, opening the door for her and lifting her up to the back row of seats. I sit beside her, setting down the box of snacks and I unfold the red t-shirt. "I'm gonna get you changed into this and we're gonna get you cleaned up, alright, pumpkin?" 

She nods, slowly but surely, and I can imagine how overwhelmed she must be as I pull her dirtied shirt over her head and replace it with the clean one. 

"My name's Dallas." I say, reaching into the compartment separating the driver's seat from the passenger's, pulling out a pack of wet wipes. "What's yours?" 

"Ella May." She watches my every move, as if she's already become untrusting of the world. 

"Ella May." I can't help but beam as I say the name. "That's a beautiful name." 

She stays quiet. 

I grab her hand gently and begin wiping the gentle skin of her arm. "This is the scariest part, Ella May." 

I watch her brown eyes quip with curiosity, but she stays quiet. 

"It's going to be okay." I don't have to lie. "Promise." 

It's not good enough, I know, and my promise means nothing to her because we both know it won't be easy if... 

"Will you find my parents?" 

There it is.

I freeze for a moment, brows furrowing with concentration (or rather, a thought I had hidden in the back of my mind) before I can help it. "I don't know." 

She looks at me and I look at her. But it's like I'm looking at myself from 12 years in the past. Like I've gone back in time and this is my one chance to reassure her that her life will work out. It's a mutual understanding. 

There's a knocking on the window. It's Tyler. 

The young girl's eyes spark with hope but I know he isn't bringing good news -- or hopefully, any for that matter. 

I motion for him to open the door as I scoot the girl and I closer to the left side in case he wants to join in on the conversation because the girl is going to break down at any moment and my own fear isn't helping one bit. 

"I found the dog." All Tyler does is give me a sad smile, looking at me with such deep burrowed sympathy that could mean a million different things. "You need a hand?"