Page 132 of Until the Sea Runs Dry

When the doorbell chimed, Jane went to greet her therapist.

Water lapped at the marina.The biting cold wind rattled her bones.

She shivered from the cold, wrapping her arms around herself to keep it at bay.

Why wasn’t she better dressed for being by the water?

Goose pimples ran up and down her arms. Her shoes pinched her feet. She glanced down to see the new stilettos that adorned them. They seemed a strange choice for being out here, too fussy and impractical.

Her legs were smooth and glowing in the way of recent pampering, her newly polished nails, buffed.

But more than the cold, there was a pain in her arm that lashed out each time she moved. She looked down and found a discolored patch of skin.

It was make-up.

A layer of foundation that someone had used to try to hide the marks beneath.

What had caused her arm to hurt like this?

And why would she need to hide the marks?

Who was she hiding them from?

Her mind went over the night before. Snatches of memory flashed up, ones that painted a scene.

A messy kitchen after a meal had been cooked. The dining table overlooking an immaculate back yard laid with food. Candles were lit, napkins folded, cutlery arranged for two. Mellow music played, setting the mood.

But moments later, the food covered the floorboards. The tablecloth curled around the legs of an upturned chair. Red wine spilled out of the bottle that had been chilling in an ice bucket.

And there she was, cowering as a dark, overwhelming shape seized her arm in a burning grasp.

The memory changed, morphed back to the marina.

She let out her breath, relieved to be away from that dark place.

She took a step forward on those new heels, her legs shaky and unsure.

There was a boat in front of her now, a luxurious yacht that was familiar, but the outer edges of the vessel were clad in darkness.

Her mind was still only allowing her to see parts of her memory.

What was going to happen that her mind didn’t feel safe enough to reveal all?

Her question went answered.

Tap, tap, tap went her heels on the concrete ground, each step more ominous than the last. All the while, the waves crashed, creating a tense soundtrack that echoed in her mind.

When she arrived at the yacht, a high-pitched buzzing sounded in her ears, like millions of hornets flapping their wings.

Then suddenly everything vanished.

The yacht, the shoes, the waves.

There was only pain that she could feel on her head, a terrible, suffocating cold, and a world of darkness.

She couldn’t breathe.

She clawed at her neck, catching it with her nails, but still the breath wouldn’t come. She would drown out here and no one would ever know.

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