Chapter 11
The ground shifted beneath her, trees thinning into empty streets that smelled faintly of damp. Kara was running, her feet pounding into the ground as shadows stretched and twisted around her.
She was being followed. Footsteps echoed strangely, coming from all directions at once. Every time she glanced over her shoulder, there was nothing, just darkness warping at the edges of her vision. Her breath came fast, ragged.
“Hello?” The word tore out of her throat, hollow and stretched into the distance.
There was nowhere for her to hide. The streets felt so open.
She turned a corner that hadn’t been there a second ago.
Elias was suddenly beside her. Just there.
The faint scent of rain clung to his clothes.
Relief hit so sharp it hurt. “Elias—” His mouth moved, urgent and frantic, but no words came.
His eyes locked onto hers, trying to tell her something she couldn’t hear.
“What?” she demanded, lunging for his arm, but her fingers closed on empty air.
He was gone, vanishing into thin air.
Suddenly, a voice called out her name.
“Kara!” She turned. Her sister stood far off, framed in the doorway of their old home. A hand gripped the railing as the other reached out toward her.
“Wait—!” Kara took a step toward her and the world shifted. The street stretched longer, bending, cold, and a sharp wind bit at her cheeks. The smell of jasmine hung in the air, faint and out of place.
It was her mom’s scent.
Slowly, Kara turned back to see her father standing in the middle of the road, his shadow long in the dark, flickering as if it didn’t quite belong to him. Cold dread slithered through her chest.
“Dad…?” He didn’t move. Her breath hitched, sweat prickling her skin. She turned unwillingly when a shadow brushed her shoulder like ice. Right behind her—
Kara gasped, air tearing into her lungs, her heart hammering as she bolted upright. The dream shattered around her as the early morning light illuminated the curtains, but the fear from the dream lingered.
The room was filled with the warm hush of morning.
Light pooled across the soft beige carpet, curtains half-open now, revealing a golden sliver of mountain horizon.
Kara sat in a chair at the small table, lacing up her hiking boots and sipping lukewarm coffee.
A map of the trail to Dream Falls from the lobby was spread out beside her, the path outlined in footprints.
They had both been looking forward to this before all the drama ensued. Isaac emerged from the bathroom, partially dressed. He looked good in the mountain air—his skin had taken on a sun-kissed bronze, his curls soft—but the second his phone buzzed on the nightstand, the energy shifted.
He glanced at the screen. “Shit,” he muttered, answering before she could say anything.
Kara sighed quietly, stretching out her arms. She walked over to the window, watching resort guests pass by below—their voices echoing faintly from the parking lot.
Behind her, Isaac was already pacing.
“Yes, I read the email. No, that wasn’t in the agenda forecast I saw." His voice faded behind the wall of corporate noise. A client. Or a board member. One of many people who had access to him at all hours. Anywhere.
She quietly packed her bag with water, a phone charger, and a few snacks before heading down for their morning coffee.
Twenty minutes later, when she stepped back in, Isaac was still on the phone, hunched over the desk with his laptop open.
She handed him the coffee cup, their fingers brushing for the briefest second, then slipped the straps of her bag over her shoulders.
“I’ll go ahead,” she said quietly.
“Give me ten minutes, babe,” he said, covering the receiver.
She was already walking toward the door. Truthfully, she had wanted solitude, especially after last night's nightmare.
“If you catch up, great,” she offered with a soft smile. “If not, I’ll be at the falls.”
He gave her a guilty nod.
Birdsong began to emerge as she started on her way.
The resort was new, built sometime within the last decade, and unlike the older, rough-cut paths she was used to, this trail had been carved with intention.
It wound neatly through the terrain, marked just enough to keep visitors from getting lost, before sloping down toward an overlook close to the start of the trek to the waterfall.
There was a drill of a woodpecker somewhere above in the pine trees.
She closed her eyes as she took in the fresh morning air when she reached the small overlook.
In the distance, she saw the spray of Dream Falls—a silver ribbon twisting down through stone and forest. It shimmered in the sunlight like something alive.
There were more cars than she was used to seeing in the lot. The area had changed. It was paved now instead of the uneven and overgrown patch of land she remembered.
Her phone rang off. Zoe's name flashed across the screen.
Everyone goes there now. Zoe’d said after Kara mentioned hiking up to Dream Falls, then filled her in on the latest from the realtor, and the conversation drifted to their next get-together, dinner at hers sometime soon.
“Do you know someone named Max?” she asked Zoe, maybe a little too quickly
“No. Should I?”
She thought of Elias, currently fighting for his life, and the warning he’d given her about Max, about the kind of trouble she’d already stumbled into.
“No. It’s nothing.” Kara said, shaking her head as if to dismiss it, before ending the call.
It didn’t feel like nothing.
Without letting any new thoughts take hold, she set out on her trek. She might figure out who Max was after her head had cleared.
What used to be a secret trail was now a well-loved tourist route.
Kara passed half a dozen returning hikers along the way—couples in coordinated hiking gear, a family with the cutest baby in a carrier.
She passed someone she recognized from the funeral.
Kara smiled faintly and picked up her pace to avoid small talk.
The hills and rock climbs were much harder than she remembered.
The walk in nature, though, was welcome.
In the city, everything was too loud. The streets were always buzzing, the air thick with exhaust and noise pollution.
Just to find a quiet place meant sitting in traffic for over an hour, and she didn’t have that kind of time anymore.
She’d tried buying a treadmill for her apartment, but all it gave her was motion without peace.
Nearly an hour later, the air thinned and cooled as the incline eased, the trees breaking apart into scattered silhouettes.
The summit revealed itself not with triumph, but with a quiet, almost unsettling stillness.
No birds. No wind strong enough to mask her breathing.
Just the wide stretch of land below, washed in early light, too calm to match the effort it took to reach it.
She stepped forward, catching her breath, hands braced on her thighs.
It was worth it.
Dreams Falls.
It took her breath away. It always had. The waterfall poured over orange-streaked rock in a steady white rush, breaking into mist as it crashed below.
At the base, the water spread into a wide, clear basin fifteen feet across, feeding a shallow pool that caught the sunlight and scattered it in ripples across the stone.
Then her eyes caught movement.
Colin stood near the base of the falls, cupping his hands to drink directly from the river. He splashed some across his face, then over his chest, his skin glistening in the sunlight, droplets running down the ridges of his torso like they had a purpose.
Kara couldn’t help but look. The boy she once knew had clearly grown into someone… impressive.
How long had she been staring? Too long. She shook her head and forced a smile. “Is that even safe?” she called out, half-teasing.
Colin turned, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Guess we’ll find out,” he replied, grinning. Then he tossed more water on his chest like he was in a commercial.
Showoff. She rolled her eyes but couldn’t look away. His body was lean, hard, golden from the sun. Everything about him was infuriatingly…edible.
“See something you like?”
Kara’s mouth opened, then closed. Her throat went dry. She realized too late that she’d been staring openly and judging by the smirk curling on his lips, it was obvious. Her hand instinctively brushed against her left hand. The engagement ring.
It suddenly felt like a lead weight on her finger.
“N—no,” she stammered, cheeks burning. “I mean… It’s just. You shouldn’t drink untreated water. It could have parasites.”
Colin tilted his head. “So you were looking. Just at the water, though. Not at me. Got it.”
“Exactly,” she muttered, trying to save face, though she knew she was a lost cause. She was practically drooling.
He waded through the shallows, water rippling around his calves. “Good to know. I’ll try not to be offended that you don't want some of this.” He gestured towards himself.
She hated the ease of him, how casual he could be after years apart. The teasing in his voice was laced with something sharper, something that cut too close.
Regret stirred. If Colin harbored any contempt, he didn’t show it.