Chapter 2: Down by the Water

"You said there’s news about Lillian—where is she?"

We were halfway down the stairs, my shoes barely tied, before I managed to ask. Caleb shot me a sidelong glance and sighed, clearly dissatisfied.

"You reek of booze. Lillian’s only been missing a week and you’re already like this? Your clothes haven’t been changed in days—they’re all wrinkled."

He eyed me up and down, and I realized my sweatpants were inside out. A week ago was supposed to be our wedding, but Lillian vanished without a trace, leaving no clue behind.

I glanced down at myself. I’d left in such a rush, I hadn’t even changed out of my slippers.

My cheeks burned. Caleb rolled his eyes. "My mom found someone back home to do a reading. They said the last place Lillian appeared was by the water, so she asked me to check."

Great. Another psychic. Maybe next she’ll try a Ouija board.

I tried to hide my reaction, but it must have shown. My fiancée’s mom is wonderful in every way—except for being incredibly superstitious. Since Lillian disappeared, she’s had her fortune told more than ten times, but every time it’s led nowhere.

"But ‘by the water’ is too vague. Where are we supposed to look?" I tugged at my shirt, trying to smooth out the wrinkles.

Caleb snorted. "If you drank every day like you do, of course you wouldn’t know where to look."

His words stung. I lowered my head in shame, not daring to meet Caleb’s eyes.

We drove in tense silence, the city blurring by outside. The air between us felt thick, the radio playing some old country song neither of us listened to. Judging by the direction the car was heading, we seemed to be going toward the riverbank.

A line of willow trees rippled in the breeze as we pulled off the main road. "The psychic said roughly southwest. I figured the closest spot southwest of your place is this stretch of river."

"Lillian used to love coming here for walks."

Images flickered through my mind: Lillian’s laugh echoing under the bridge, our shadows stretched along the water at dusk. I thought of the argument we’d had before she disappeared.

I could still hear her voice breaking—“You never listen, not really”—echoing in my head. She’d wanted to add a segment to the wedding, but I didn’t want things to get too complicated. All our accumulated conflicts erupted in that fight.

Her voice had trembled, but I’d been too stubborn, letting my pride do the talking. Lillian left in tears, and I, out of stubbornness, didn’t go after her. But even after a whole night, she never came back.

Regret gnawed at my gut. I couldn’t believe she would miss our wedding over just one argument.

"We’re here."

Caleb’s words pulled me from my thoughts. I got out of the car with him.

The wind coming off the river was colder than I remembered. I looked up—the riverbank was deserted.

The only sounds were the distant drone of a lawnmower and a pair of ducks quacking in the reeds. A faded playground stood nearby, swings creaking in the wind, abandoned at this hour. "Prepare yourself. Lillian’s been missing for days. Chances are slim."

The implication struck me hard. I immediately understood what Caleb meant, and stared at the river in disbelief.

He kept his voice low. "I hired a search team. They’ll be here soon." Caleb looked into the distance, his eyes a little red.

"Honestly, I don’t really believe in those psychics either. It’s just a shot in the dark. Even if we don’t find anything, they’ll say we searched the wrong place. But since even the cops haven’t found a clue, I’d rather those psychics get lucky."

He kicked a pebble into the mud. I couldn’t hold back the pain in my heart. I ran toward the center of the river.

"I don’t believe it. Lillian wouldn’t just leave me like this!"

My voice cracked, raw with panic. "What are you doing?" Caleb chased after me and grabbed me.

He looked furious, but before he could lay into me, his phone rang in his pocket.

It was the search team, waiting on the riverbank.

The call ended quickly. After hanging up, Caleb let go of my arm. "If you really want to throw your life away, at least know why. You’ve been running from everything these days, not acting like a man at all."

His words hit me like a bucket of cold river water. I hurried after him, running back toward the bank.

Whether it was fate or the psychic’s real skill, the search team worked day and night and actually pulled a body from the river.

A crowd of onlookers gathered, their cell phones raised, voices low. I forced myself to look. When I saw that horrible face, I finally breathed a sigh of relief.

My knees buckled, and I had to grip the cold railing to keep from sinking to the ground. The body they pulled out wasn’t Lillian.