A heron glided along the river’s path, silent as the breeze, before dipping beyond her view. She wondered where it had landed. Ahead, a gap in the hedge. She pushed her way through and found herself at the top of the bank, a slope of thick grass and weeds dropping away below her. Another shiver coursed through her as the sun sank lower in the sky and the temperature fell along with it. She took a cautious step down, the soles of her trainers struggling for purchase. Then another, and then her feet slipped away from her and she slid down and down until she reached the bare, stony earth at the water’s edge.

Mud and grass stains coated her jeans, grazes stung the heels of her hands. She cursed and got up on her hands and knees, her body still aching from cleaning the kitchen. If she stretched out her hand, she could touch the water. So she did, let the cold soothe the abrasions on her skin.

Would it be so bad? Just crawl in, let the slow current take her.

A sinful idea, a sin she had committed once before.

The low sun’s reflection on the water pierced Sara’s vision, and she shaded her eyes with her free hand, looking out across the surface.

There, a girl, looking back at her.

A cry escaped Sara’s throat and she fell back against the earth and grass.

The girl, aching beauty, fixed her stare on Sara. Submerged to her waist, she wore a plain white dress, her dark hair falling around her shoulders. In her hands, pressed to her belly, a tangle of scarlet ribbons. They trailed into the water, red tendrils threading out to Sara, inviting her.

Reach out, Sara thought, take hold of one.

But the water is so cold. Dark down there. The sun can’t reach.

The girl did not shiver, showed no sign of the water’s chill.

But Sara knew, she could feel it from here, the cold darkness, had felt it before.

She got to her feet and took a step back, stones and earth shifting beneath her shoes. Shook her head, no.

The girl stared, the calm on her face giving way to sorrow, fathoms deep. She lay back in the water, turning her face to the dimming sky. The water reclaimed her, pulling her down, no disruption on the surface save for the swirling scarlet ribbons, and soon they too were gone, leaving only the dying sun’s glare.

Sara remained on the bank, the world darkening around her. She heard the river now, the whisper and sigh of it, and the birds in the trees and the hedges. Her breath quickened, her lungs pulling in air faster than she could expel it, filling her chest.

“God,” she whispered. “Oh, God.”