Page 93 of Red River

I never thought someone as tall and broad as Archer could run so fast.

By the time he reached the bridge, a crowd had gathered around him. I couldn’t see what was happening.

Heart pounding, I grabbed Aiden and Lake’s hands and ran toward them.

Every step was agony. My mind screamed that it was impossible—no one could save Igor.

But I realized that Archer was trying. And for the first time, a tiny, desperate spark of hope flickered inside me.

But with it came something else—a paralyzing fear.

Because if Archer tried, if he really tried—I might lose him too.

Lake was sobbing, and Aiden let out desperate whimpers as we reached the crowd of people. I shoved my way through them brutally, only to witness the moment Archer disappeared over the railing.

The rope was tied to one of the posts. I only caught a glimpse of his head before it vanished beyond the stone edge of the bridge.

"No!" I groaned, torn between conflicting emotions—hope and shock. Terrified that he wouldn’t be able to save Igor. Terrified that he wouldn’t be able to save himself.

I lunged toward the railing and looked down. For a fraction of a second, Archer lifted his head, and our eyes met.

"Archer, don’t do this," I whispered, though I so desperately wanted him to do this and save Igor. But I already knew it would be impossible.

Anyone with even a basic understanding of physics, of the force of water, of nature’s raw power, would know that… The thought of losing him too tore my heart in half—already shattered by the realization that my son, my Igor, was gone. That I would never see him again… Waterfalls like these had those backwashes, currents that were so hard to escape.

Archer didn’t react to my words. He was lowering himself down the rope quickly, and before long, the rushing waters swallowed him.

I stared into the churning rapids. The place where Igor had fallen was, thankfully, slightly to the side—not directly under the waterfall’s strongest torrent. The water was thinner there. But I knew that the moment he hit the river below, it wouldn’t matter. The powerful currents swirling there could have carried him anywhere.

Clutching the railing, sobbing, I kept repeating, "No, no, no," fixated on the roiling surface below. The mist rising from the cascading water partially obscured my vision.

Beside me, Lake was wailing loudly, clinging to my side. Aiden was shouting—screaming something—I didn’t even know what words. I glanced around and saw Van, holding his phone, deathly pale, nearly paralyzed.

Around us, people stood frozen, doing nothing. Some recorded the scene on their phones, while others peered down, maybe searching for Archer’s head amidst the foaming whirlpools.

Their faces showed a mix of pity. Some watched it all as if it were just a spectacle. Only one person stepped forward—a frail, elderly omega. He approached me with sorrow in his eyes and whispered, "Don’t worry, sweetheart. Maybe he’ll make it?"

A raw, desperate sob tore from my throat. I looked at the water again, but I still saw nothing. How much time had passed since Igor fell? Two minutes? Three? Every second meant less of a chance, less hope that he’d survive unscathed—if he survived at all. How long could he last without air before his brain was irreparably damaged?

It had all happened so fast, yet every minute felt like an eternity. The deafening roar of the waterfall, the damp air—I felt my fingers aching from gripping the wet railing too tightly, my whole body trembling.

At one point, darkness crept into my vision, and I nearly lost consciousness. I swayed on my feet, struggling to breathe, as ifI were drowning myself. I wanted to scream, to break free from the suffocating panic. I squeezed my eyes shut, and suddenly, I saw it—the foamy water’s surface, bright and churning, just within reach. I had to get there! I had to try!

I saw my hands gripping the rope, pulling me up slowly… Would I make it? Would I reach the surface in time? My lungs burned, ready to burst… Two more feet. Half a foot! Now!

And then—relief. My lungs sucked in air. I gasped and opened my eyes. People were shouting, pointing.

What did just happen? What was this vision?

Down below, the rope had gone taut. Something was clinging to it.

I couldn’t believe my own eyes—Archer’s head emerged. But not just his. Another head beside his.

The elderly omega cried out, "I see them! They’re both there!"

Even now, I couldn’t allow myself to believe it. It was too improbable, too miraculous.

Not until people grabbed the rope and started pulling.

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