Penelope rubbed at her arms as a chill settled on her skin, despite her oversized hoodie. The weather was distinctly un-summerlike, grey and cold. Something about the weather bothered Penelope. It reminded her of something she couldn't quite put her finger on, like some kind of weird déja-vu.

It didn't help that Liam was ignoring her, separating himself from her by standing on the other side of his mom. Penelope let him; she didn't want to talk to him either right now. Her dad noticed that something was off. Every once in a while, his gaze would dart between the two of them, his eyebrows raised. But he said nothing for which Penelope was grateful. Instead, he just put his arm around her shoulders, squeezing her now and then, while they waited for the search to begin.

Someone had just come around and passed out flyers with the profiles of the missing crew. A photo of Daevon was at the very top, right next to what looked like an actor's headshot of Xander, followed by pictures of the rest of the crew. There were rough descriptions of them, what they had been wearing, and where they had last been seen. It seemed their team had the same idea Penelope had: to venture into the woods where Henry had encountered the Raven and try to make contact for themselves.

Only, unlike her, they had never made it back.

Thinking about it made Penelope feel like a pit had opened up in her stomach. She scrunched up the flyer and shoved it into her pocket.

The same harried officer from before—Duncan—shuffled over to the front of the crow, ready to address the volunteers. Though it was barely nine in the morning, there were already dark shadows under his eyes. His arms were full of maps, printouts, and rolls of neon pink plastic tape. He dumped it all out on a small fold-out table set up in front of them. A roll of neon tape rolled off the edge of the table and disappeared into the grass. He didn't chase after it.

"Alright, folks," he said, his deep voice carrying over the crowd though it sounded weary and tired. "We're going to use you to help us do what we call a grid search. We're gonna split you up into groups, assign you to a square of the grid on the map—" he held up a map which had a grid drawn on it with a thick black marker, "—and then you'll walk along in a line scanning the ground. Please look to the left, where my fellow officers are demonstrating the technique."

He pointed over to the side of the group, where a group of officers and other SAR professionals were assembled. They were standing in a line, each of them about an arms-length apart. Each of them held a handful of plastic stakes tied with knots of the neon pink tape. When Officer Duncan gave his signal, they began to walk, slow and sure, as their gaze roved the ground in front of them.

Officer Duncan continued his speech as his teammates continued their demonstration. "If you find something of note—like a candy wrapper, a piece of clothing, anything you think might be meaningful—DO NOT TOUCH IT! It could be evidence! Instead, mark it with some of a neon tape we'll be handing out, so we can find it as we follow up behind you."

As he said it, one of the demonstrators took one of their plastic markers and pushed it into the ground beside an old, crushed beer can.

"If you find something you think is really crucial, stay with it and give us a call to come and look. One of our team members will be following behind you. Now, we'll come around and start splitting you into groups."

As he said it, the demonstration crew split up and began to head towards them. Penelope shrank against her dad as the stern-faced professionals marched through the crowd. A very tall woman approached them. She had a long bleached-blonde braid that clashed with her orange SAR jumpsuit.

"Morning, Beth," she said with a nod towards Liam's mom as she stopped in front of their little group.

"Morning, Martha," Beth replied with a smile. It seemed everyone knew everyone in this small town.

"Are you all a group?" She motioned towards Penelope and her dad, her brows pressing together as she looked at them—they were unfamiliar faces in a sea of neighbours.

"Yeah, we're all together. These two are staying at the campground with us. They wanted to help."

Martha nodded. "Alright. Four's not big enough for a group, so I'm gonna add a few more people, if you don't mind." She didn't wait for a response before she turned to the people standing next to them. "Hey, you two—Lars. Hans. C'mere."

Two redheaded men turned to look at her. Penelope hadn't taken any time to look at any of the others in the crowd, but she realized she recognized them—they had been in the diner on that first morning. Their bright red hair was unmistakable, as was their size. The men were quite large, both tall and wide and they looked like they could've been twins decked out in identical camo clothing that was now rendered pointless by their bright orange vests.

They did as Martha asked and lumbered over to join Penelope and the others.

"Mornin' Martha," one of the two said. Penelope didn't know whether he was Lars or Hans. "What d'ya need us for?"

"You'll be joining Beth and these folks as a group for the search today."

The other man shrugged like this wasn't very interesting information. "Alrighty."

"Great," Martha said. She dug into the small canvas bag she was carrying and pulled out a few rolls of the neon tape and plastic stakes that Duncan had shown them before. "These are your marking supplies. If you run out stakes, just tie the ribbon onto whatever's nearby, like a branch or something, alright?"

Penelope nodded as she accepted the roll of neon tape from Martha. Martha handed another roll to one of the redheaded brothers, and the last one to Liam who took it without saying anything or even looking at Martha. But he must've felt Penelope's gaze on him, because for a second he glanced up at her before quickly looking away.

Fine, then, Penelope thought with a huff, looking in the exact opposite direction. She didn't get why he was so bent out of shape. Just because she had defended Daevon over this one little thing? It wasn't like she had absolved him of all his other shit.

As she looked through the rest of the crowd, she noticed that the other SAR personnel were now ushering the crowd of volunteers toward the tree line. Martha seemed to notice too, as she began to shoo them in that direction, too.

As they walked along, Penelope noticed that Liam had now moved to the other side of the redheaded brothers, taking his mom with him, putting even more space between them.

Penelope rolled her eyes. This is getting ridiculous.

Once they reached the tree line, other officers began arranging them in their group along the edge of the trees. Between every group was a SAR personnel, armed with their own map, to help keep everyone aligned within their grid square.

Officer Duncan appeared in front of them again. He had a megaphone now. Once it seemed most of the crowd was in the right place, he turned it on.

"Alright, folks!" he began, his voice crackling over the speaker. "We're now going to start the search. Remember, if you find something, DO NOT TOUCH IT. Mark it with your tape or call one of us over. And please listen for instructions. We're all going to be moving together, so when we tell you to start, get moving, and if we tell you to stop, STOP where you are! And stay with your group. That is all for now." He stepped back through the line of people.

Penelope looked over her shoulder. Behind the row of volunteers were the rest of the cops, one per group. It looked like they'd be following along behind them.

Officer Duncan was in position amongst them, now. He turned on his megaphone again. "Alright folks, let's get going. And go slow! This is not a race."

All at once, the row of volunteers began to move, stepping into the forest. Penelope had to scramble to catch up with the line but soon fell into step with her dad. Their group spread out—as much as they were able—to cover the full width of their grid square. Liam was now at the farthest edge from her, separated from her by his mom and the two brothers.

The greenery of the forest was thick. The heavy rains had fed the undergrowth well, and it had grown lush and high. Even wearing her old hiking boots, Penelope had a hard time fighting through them. She was so focused on not getting tangled that she almost forgot to look for any sign of Daevon.

Her dad was doing slightly better, on account of his height. Beside them, the two brothers marched on with slow steps, their heavy-duty hunting boots easily crushing through the undergrowth.

Something about their boots, moving through the thick grass, reminded Penelope of the latest footage of the Raven. The video had ended with a shot of the anonymous source's feet as they fled. They had been wearing boots, boots that looked very much like those. She'd have to check the video again to make sure, but it seemed a little too coincidental. She had seen them talking to Gunnar, too, which only made her more suspicious...

Had Gunnar faked that footage, too? She wouldn't put it past him. Suddenly Liam's theory didn't seem quite so—

"Something happen between you two?" her dad asked in a low voice.

Penelope snapped her head up. "Huh?"

"Between you and Liam," he asked, dropping his voice even lower. "You guys were just as chummy as usual when we first got out here and now you won't even look at each other. Did you have a fight or something?"

"No, he's just being stupid." Penelope turned her gaze to the ground again, searching for signs like she was supposed to, instead of inspecting a stranger's boots. She was being as ridiculous as Liam. She bet lots of people around here had similar hunting boots.

"Stupid how?" her dad prodded.

Penelope sighed. She didn't really want to be discussing it in public, so she dropped her voice to a whisper, too. "He said that Daevon is faking his disappearance."

Her dad's eyes went wide. He found that accusation as shocking as she did. "I mean, the kid has made some dumb choices as of late, but he wouldn't do something that dumb... right?" His voice shook slightly at the end like he was no longer sure himself.

"I don't think so," Penelope said, but her voice shook, too, like she didn't quite believe her own words.

She still didn't want to believe that Daevon would do something that reckless, but under Xander's influence, she wasn't sure anymore. That big phoney had a reputation for doing controversial things just for the publicity. But she hadn't thought Daevon would sink that low, that quickly...

"Anyway, it doesn't matter," she said, her voice harder than she meant it to be like she was trying to convince herself. "I'd rather do everything I can to make sure Daevon is safe, even if, in the end, it makes me look like an idiot for believing him... again."

"And that's why I love ya," her dad said, giving her a small, playful shove. "But I wouldn't hold Liam's comment against him. I don't think he meant anything by it. He's still out here looking, after all. And seeing you get all worried about Daevon, he's probably just a little je—wait, what's that?"

Penelope stopped alongside her dad and went to his side to see what he was bent over. Laying on the forest floor, half-obscured by grass and ferns, was a toque.

"Does that look familiar to you?" her dad asked. "Could that belong to one of the crew members?"

Penelope swallowed. It wasn't exactly the most unique hat she'd ever seen. It was just a simple, heather-grey knit toque. But it did happen to be the exact same kind of toque—right down to the brand that was stitched onto the rolled-up edge, Herschel—that she had gotten for Daevon as a gift last Christmas.

Could that be Daevon's hat? she wondered, her throat tightening. It could just be a coincidence. Herschel was a popular brand, and Daevon certainly wasn't the only person in the world who owned such a hat.

But something in Penelope's gut told her it wasn't a coincidence.

"Let's not jump to conclusions just yet," her dad said like he could sense her impending spiral. He handed her one of the plastic spikes he had been given from Martha. "Let's just focus on our job. You've got the tape, right? Can you mark it for me?"

"S-Sure," Penelope said, taking the spike with one hand and digging into the pocket of her hoodie with the other.

"I'm going to keep looking around," he said, leaving her to it. "Maybe there's more around here. I won't go far."

Penelope nodded and crouched down beside the hat. She drew out a length of the neon tape and then pulled on it until a bit stretched thin and snapped off. She tied the scrap tightly to the plastic stake and then stuck it in the ground right next to the toque. Her hand lingered over it as she fought the urge to pick the hat up as if she'd be able to identify if it truly belonged to Daevon by its feel alone.

She shook her head out. You're being crazy, she told herself.

Pushing herself up, she turned to motion to the officer that was following their group that she'd found something—

But there was no officer. She looked left, then right, and before spinning in a circle.

She was entirely alone.

"W-What the fuck?" she gasped.

Getting separated from Liam when it was just the two of them was one thing... But how could she just lose a crowd of people?

She pulled out her phone to try and call for help, but—of course—it had no reception. She tried calling anyway, just in case she might get through, but every call she made dropped immediately.

"HELLO?" she screamed into the open air. "Is anyone there? I need help!"

There was no reply.

In sheer hysteria, she slapped herself, hoping that this could all be some weird dream, like the last remnants of the nightmare that still haunted her from this morning.

Her cheek stung and throbbed from the impact but she didn't wake up.

She began to breathe harder, her breaths coming in ragged gasps as she tried to think through her panic and figure out what to do next. She knew better than to keep wandering. At least the woods was currently crawling with SAR professionals. They'd have no problem finding her. They would find her soon enough.

Right?

A chorus of cawing and croaking filled the air. Penelope looked up, through the canopy of the trees. Several dark shapes shot by, barely visible through the thick leaves and branches, scattering shadows across the forest floor. Penelope already had a good idea of what the dark shapes were before one landed on a nearby branch.

A raven.

Of course.

It looked at her, like it knew her, then—just as she expected—the large, sleek bird opened its sharp black beak and croaked out its signature phrase.

"FOLLOW ME."

As she stared at it, she began to shake. She thought of Henry's story, of how the birds had said that exact same thing to him in the days before he encountered the Raven. She swallowed hard, trying to stop the trembling.

Is that why it wants me to follow it? she thought. Does it want to lead me to the Raven?

That only made her shaking worse.

She clenched her fist at her side, steadying herself. She didn't know why she was so scared. This was exactly what she always wanted—a real opportunity to face the unexplainable. To know, for certain, that there was more to this world.

This was her chance.

She was going to follow that damn little raven.

But she wasn't going to be stupid about it.

She dug into her pockets as the raven watched. She pulled out the roll of neon tape and wound out a long stretch of it. Taking the end, she tied it around the trunk of the nearest tree and stuck the roll back in her pocket. It wasn't breadcrumbs, but it would do.

"Alright," she said to the raven. "You want me to follow you? Then let's go."