The water poured over Daniel’s head in a steady, scalding stream.

He stood motionless under the spray, eyes closed, both hands braced against the cool marble wall of the shower. Thick steam filled the large bathroom, but he barely registered the heat. His mind was still trapped inside the nightmare that had ripped him out of sleep just before dawn. In the dream, Raine had been standing on that same bridge again, bloodied, broken, one eye swollen shut, lips split, body barely able to stay upright. Those familiar eyes had looked straight at Daniel, full of pain and love and quiet apology, right before the gunshot cracked through the air...