I don’t recall, exactly, when I accepted the likelihood that my mother, and my father, and my sister, and my brother were dead. I remember gradually becoming alarmed when the Camp Administrator, who we called ‘the Admin,’ did not return with the counselors who had left with her. And I think that the first time I cried was the morning when Jackie, the single remaining adult, would not leave her cabin. I must have begun to face the truth when Jacob told us about the fog covering the land below us, but it was sometime after that when I realized that I would never see my family again. I was alone in a dangerous world, trapped in the Sierra Nevada Mountains by a deadly mist, and surrounded by strangers I had never met before that fateful month of May.

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