Damien Shaw

The rain continues to pound against the windows of our cabin as I continue to good Imogene in my arms. The sound of the rain feels louder now and I feel her breath against my neck, shallow and uneven. I rest my chin on top of her head, inhaling the familiar scent of her hair, and try to find something, anything, to distract her from the spiral of thoughts I know is taking over.

"Remember the second day of this trip?" I murmur, keeping my voice light. "When we hiked up that trail and found that little cove? You swore you wouldn’t go into the water, but then...