Yesterday's Gone: Season One

heaving, shattered sobs.
    “We will find her,” Desmond said in a soothing whisper. “She couldn’t have gone far. We just have to start looking.”
    “You don’t understand,” Mary cried. “I can’t feel her anywhere. Not at all. It’s like she’s gone gone. No thoughts, no energy, nothing. It’s like…” Mary fell into another pit of hysterics.
    I have to stop. Paola needs me. She’s in danger every second it takes me to get myself together.   And if I don’t stop freaking out, things will get worse.  
    Get it together, Mary. Now.  
    If she’s dead, you killed her.  
    99...98...97...96...95...
    Mary blended the rhythm of her breathing with the numbers in her head, slowly aligning her internal chaos with the new impossible reality.
    84...83...82....81...80...
    She took a long breath, then looked Desmond in the eye. “What do you think we should do?”  
    Relief colored his face. Desmond pulled Mary into a sudden, surprising embrace, held her for a short moment, then pushed her softly away. “We’re going to find her and everything will be okay,” he said, holding her eyes. “But we’ve gotta be smart right now, and make sure we’re not letting fear drive the bus. Okay?”
    Mary nodded, then collapsed into a minute-long fit of coughing.  
    John and Jimmy were back, standing a few feet away while waiting for their cue. “John, I want you to comb every corner of the first floor offices. Bathrooms, office stalls, under the cushions, everywhere. Leave nothing out.” He turned to Jimmy. “I need you to check the rooms.”
    “I already did,” he said. “Twice, she’s not in her room, or any of ours.”  
    “No,” Desmond said. “I want you to check every room on the first floor. The locks are off so the doors should open. If they don’t open, make a list of rooms we need to check. We’ll go back and kick those doors in one by one.”
    “Mary,” his face softened, “You should check the restaurant area. Go through the dining room and kitchen. Maybe Paola got hungry, went to find something to eat and fell asleep. She was awfully tired, and the kitchen is the one area on the first floor where she might not have been able to hear us, even with all the screaming.”
    “I’ll check the exits, inside and outside and we’ll all meet back here as soon as we can.”
    More words weren’t needed. The men went off, each hunter going to gather on his own, hoping he’d be the one to return a happy girl to her panicked mother and likely praying he wouldn’t find something that would haunt her forever.  
    Mary examined the dining area. The end of the world must have happened pretty early in the morning, because the entire first floor of the hotel had few signs of life. Tables were cleared, chairs pushed in, and not a single item of clothing draped the furniture. She turned around and gave the dining area a final glance, waved to John who caught her eye from the other side of the lobby, then pushed the kitchen doors open to a powerful gust of her daughter’s emotional scent.  
    She inched through the kitchen. Paola had been here. Mary took another step and was nearly knocked sideways by a powerful, unexpected wave of emotion featuring her ex-husband.
    Her throat closed and her head pounded. Her knees started to shake.
    Why do I feel Ryan in here? I can almost hear his voice and smell the sweat on his collar. But that’s not possible.
    A lone butcher knife resting on the counter sent an arctic chill through Mary. She picked it up, the chill grew colder. Paola had held the knife, maybe for a while.  
    She shuddered, tossed the butcher knife on the counter with an angry clatter, then traded the cool, stale air of the kitchen for the crisp early morning Missouri air.  
    Desmond was also outside, 30 feet away, inspecting an exit. “Any luck?” he called.
    Mary shook her head.  
    “Let’s head back inside,” Desmond said, walking toward her. “I don’t think Paola is in the hotel, but we need to know for sure before we split up and look out here.”  
    Mary felt like she was on the edge, about to fall.  
    Demond said, “It’s going to be okay.”  
    Mary nodded.  
    Inside, everyone echoed the same report — they’d all seen more of the same — nothing.
    “There are five floors in the hotel,” Desmond said. “John, you take the second. Mary takes the third. And I’ll take four and five. Jimmy stays down here in case Paola slips in or out. When we’re done, we meet back