I found them at a clearing, standing close, talking among themselves like no one else existed. Vera’s lips were drawn into a thin, flat line as John said something I couldn’t hear.

Her eyes caught mine, and her expression instantly brightened. ‘There you are,’ she said, tightening her ponytail and grinning almost too wide. ‘We were getting worried!’

I stumbled up the rest of the hill and sucked hard on the water from the CamelBak. ‘Sorry,’ I said, practically wheezing. ‘Did I take that long?’ My stomach twisted again.

‘Not at all,’ John said, eyes flashing briefly to his wife. ‘We’re just used to this one. Old pros.’

I stepped forward and took in the views. Mountains rolled on all around us, every shade of green, clouds skimming the horizon like a painting. I gazed down at a rushing river below. My throat felt thick and coated with mucus. It was so far down to the bottom. ‘Is this the summit?’ I asked.

Vera shook her head. ‘It’s about a half mile more, but this is the, well, the spot.’

‘What spot?’ I asked.

She scratched at the strap of her tank, exposing her sports bra – neon green, this time. ‘Where that poor girl fell. They say she stepped out to take a photo, and the rocks just crumbled. The river’s just below.’

‘That’s why I like to be careful,’ John said. ‘With my GPS and all that. It’s easy to disappear on a hike. You read stories in the news all the time. Someone takes a photo, heads off the trail, and then that’s it.’

I was too afraid to go closer to the edge, but I could hear the water rumbling over the riverbed. Leaves rustled behind me, and I jumped, gasping.

Before I could stop myself, I imagined Davis, standing there, ready to push me off the ledge, end it all, give me the punishment I’m sure he thought I deserved.

Vera stepped closer, reaching out a hand toward me. ‘What’s wrong, Lucy?’

Instinctively, I took a step away from her.

‘Are you okay?’ John asked, but I backed up even more, shaking my head –

‘God,’ she said. ‘You look green.’

I bent over, hands on my knees.

The river rushed in my periphery, and I retched – one, two, three times.

I’m so scared, I thought as tears filled my eyes and spilled down my cheeks, and I continued to heave.

John stepped forward, pressing a napkin into my hand, and when there was nothing left to spit out, he helped me stand up straight, his hand, strong and steadying, resting on my elbow, bathing it in heat. Electricity. ‘Whatever happened to you,’ John said. ‘Whatever he –’ His voice deepened with anger, protectiveness, but he took a breath, calming down. ‘Whatever it is, it’s going to be okay now.’ He squeezed my elbow gently. ‘We’ll make sure of that.’