The trail was slippery and damp underfoot. Falk pounded along as fast as he could, his chest heaving as overgrown branches reached out, catching and clawing at him. The thunderous sound of rushing water drew closer and he burst from the tree line, panting, the sweat already cooling and clammy against his skin.
The wall of water tumbled down. He made himself stop and look properly, his breath ragged as he squinted into the failing light. Nothing. The waterfall viewpoint was deserted. He swore under his breath. He was wrong. Or too late, a small voice whispered in his head.
He took a step onto the bridge, then another, and stilled.
She was perched on the jutting rock face at the top of Mirror Falls, almost invisible against the craggy backdrop. Her legs dangled over the edge and her head hung down as she stared into the churn of white water crashing into the pool below.
Lauren sat, sad and shivering, and very much alone.