It occurs to him that likely every single person who has ever visited this place has imagined what it would be like to go over the falls. He can remember standing here many times, gazing down at the Kam and wondering himself. From this angle, the river is only a river – there is no dramatic veil, no cloud of mist, no whirlpool at the bottom, no photogenic view. Just a river, and then an end to the river. It’s impossible to see what lies beyond the precipice, and from there it is easy to let your mind wander, to follow the current along to that point, and then perhaps speculate about a glorious free fall, wings sprouting from your back moments before you reach the bottom, or a thrill ride like a waterslide on an acute-angled descent, maybe some twists and turns, a loop-de-loop, spitting you out at the bottom, waterlogged and laughing, chanting “Again, again!” as you clap your hands like a child.

But from another angle, the one from the viewing platform, there is no mystery. There is only horrifying reality: millions of gallons of water surging over the edge and crashing into the whirlpool below, with a sound like a constant drum roll, a bleak warning of death. No one standing here has any illusions of wings or waterslides. You imagine going over the edge and you feel nothing but fear.

“Walter,” a voice says.

Walter raises his head to find the man he spotted earlier standing next to him. The confusion must have shown on his face because the man says, “You don’t remember me, do you?”

And suddenly Walter does. “Dallas.” Finn’s ex-boyfriend, he almost adds, until he realizes that he is, of course, also Ross’s father. Which one does he identify with more? Walter wonders. How would he have introduced himself if I hadn’t remembered his name? He never spent much time with Dallas when he was dating Finn – he just figured Dallas wouldn’t be around long enough to bother getting attached. Eight years is longer than Walter expected, but in the end he was right – Dallas was gone from their lives for good, although not without leaving a little piece of himself behind. Or a big piece of himself. Looking at Dallas now, Walter realizes that Ross looks exactly like his father.

“I’m surprised to see you here,” Dallas says.

“I could say the same thing,” says Walter. “Didn’t you move to B.C.?”

“I moved back here a couple of years ago.”

“Oh.” The two of them stand side by side in awkward silence. Walter feels he should say something, do something fatherly, stand up for his daughters in some way. But it was so long ago, and he is just too tired to care anymore.

“So, is Kate…” Dallas pauses. “Is she okay?”