a deadly storm, an unsolved disappearance, and a small town brimming with secrecy;
an outcast girl, a boy who only knows how to hide, and the world against them;
what could go wrong?
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Minutes later, Boo finds herself in the place she least expected—Martha and Damien's secret spot, once a thing of hidden beauty and untarnished romance, now tainted with the memory of Damien's grisly death and what Boo suspects will be her own soon enough. Nathaniel's hand is wound tightly through her hair, mercilessly dragging her along the water-logged banks down to the river. The swell of the water is more than usual; recent rains have flooded the creek, turning what is normally a gentle woodland stream into an angry spit of water.
"You want to know what happened so bad?" Nathaniel spits, throwing Boo onto the edge of the river. She tumbles to the ground, momentarily stunned by the shock of cold water as her hands land on the slimy creek bottom. Barely a blink of an eye passes before Nathaniel's full weight is sinking into her back, ramming her body into the soft earth framing the river.
"Then you can die where he did."
His words are muffled as he shoves her head below the rushing water, his hands forcing her down while his body keeps her pinned. Panic floods her chest as she fights against him, but he's just too heavy. Unable to help herself, she gasps in fear and a current of cold water rushes into her mouth and down her windpipe; she chokes against the water, but her face is in the muddy riverbank and the water is filling her lungs and her chest is becoming unbearably tight.
This is it, she thinks, her panic rising. This is where I die.
Before she can completely black out, she is suddenly ripped from the water and thrown onto her back on the wet grass, gulping and fumbling for air while Nathaniel leans over her again, another deadly leer on his face.
"Not good enough, huh?" he sneers. He quickly straddles her, keeping her hips pressed down with his full weight while his hands keep her wrists trapped above her head. "Maybe you'd prefer this. Feel familiar? It should—this is how your bitch grandmother died."
One hand leaves her wrist to cover her nose and mouth. Boo feebly tries to push him off with her free hand, to scratch his hand or his face, anything to make him stop, but she's dizzy from lack of air and Nathaniel's weight is too much for her. He pushes down harder on her face and she vomits water into his hand. Her eyes flutter as stars explode across her vision. She knows she has literal seconds before the fight is over for good.
Her arm goes limp, and that's when she brushes something cold and hard peeking out of Nathaniel's belt line.
The pistol.
She grabs it by the barrel, and by some miracle, is able to flip it over in her hand until the handle sits strong and solid in her palm. Without hesitation, she presses the muzzle into his neck. He freezes, the victory falling from his face as he realizes what she's done.
"Get off me."
Her voice is muted by his hand. He retracts his grip, and she gasps deeply, choking now at the pain of a full breath. She gestures to the side with her head, indicating for him to stand. He does so, keeping his gaze on her, methodically backing away until he's standing a few feet away from her with his hands slightly raised.
