Slowly and deliberately, she covered every inch of her body with the cream. She spent extra time on every wrinkle, as if she could rub them away. When she was through, she sprayed on Angel perfume, allowing the mist to land against her neck and her breasts, her thighs and her arms. The mingled scents of caramel and honey filled the room, lingering just beneath the Oriental vanilla fragrance. She fell backward onto the bed and felt the satin sheets whisper against her skin.

Her mind filled with thoughts of relaxing things: Charlie’s hands and chamomile tea; candlelight and sweet potato pie; white grapes and long walks.

In five minutes, she was asleep, dreaming that she was jogging near the river. Kelly Drive, the winding road flanked by grass and trees on one side and by the Schuylkill River on the other, was her favorite place in the city. Walking distance from her East Falls home, it was the place where she ran, where she thought, where she cleared her mind of everything it took to be a cop.

There, on the concrete path that wound its way along the riverbank, runners, bikers, skaters, and lovers partook of the gentle breeze that swept in off the water. She could almost feel that breeze in her sleep, tickling her face as she watched teams of rowers make their way to the city’s fabled Boathouse Row.

She passed by groups of Canadian geese pecking at the grass to her right and heard the humming engines of cars whipping by on her left. The scent of the trees and grass was sweeter than usual. The sensation of the breeze against her skin was softer than it had ever been. Her feet glided along the path almost effortlessly.

As she approached the section of the running path that went beneath a bridge, things around her began to change. The geese became vultures, staring at her as if they were waiting for her to die. The cars were replaced by a single hearse, its engine idling as it sat on the suddenly lifeless drive. The trees and grass turned brown and brittle, while the gentle breeze grew cold and unforgiving.

Sandy looked around for other runners, but all of them had disappeared. The bikers were gone, the skaters were nonexistent, and the lovers were nowhere to be found. She was alone now, and there was nothing but death to keep her company.

As the sky darkened above her and the river turned to ice, she intuitively knew that turning around would do her no good. She had to get beyond the bridge. If she didn’t, she would never wake up.