"They're not here."

Three simple words, but their meaning crashed into me and nearly undid the sliver of hope that had brought me to Shay's neighbor's cabin. We stood in the middle of the one-room house, which was hardly more than stacks of wood. The sounds of our voices lost themselves in the angry whistling through the cabin's cracks. The place was freezing and smelled like old soup. On the way inside, I'd bumped into a small, rickety table against the wall and caused the full ...