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frowned at her uncertainly. He took the last few steps down the trail and stood panting beside her. He clutched the rail with his leather-gloved hands. He was elegant-looking in his camel’s hair coat. He was in his seventies, but still a handsome man. She tried to wrap her mind around it. How could it be? He was old. He was alive. He wasn’t immortal. Olive and Isabelle must’ve reversed the wish and allowed him to live a normal life. “I’m sorry,” he said, breathing hard. “But do we know each other? Were you a student of mine? It’s been years…”
    She couldn’t keep the disappointment out of her voice. “You don’t remember me?”
    He studied her face and shook his head. “I’m sorry. I retired from teaching years ago. My memory isn’t what it used to be.” He smiled. “What was your name again?”
    “Cassie.”
    His eyes sparkled. “Ah. Cassandra. She had the gift of prophecy, only nobody would believe her. That was her curse. She foretold the fall of Troy. And to think I don’t remember you. How could I have forgotten such a delightful young Cassandra?”
    She stood in stunned silence. On the brink of tears.
    “Did you major in Classics, or was Greek Mythology an elective? Which one of my classes did you take?”
    She wanted to keep him there. She lightly touched his arm. “We met a long time ago,” she said, “while doing our laundry.”
    “Laundry?” He smiled, his eyes crinkling. “Seriously?”
    “Down in the basement of your apartment building, there was a laundry room.”
    “Sorry. Not ringing any bells.”
    She grasped his arm. “I learned a lot from you, Ryan. So much.”
    “I’m glad.” He gently pried her fingers off his arm and looked at her with kindly concern. “I’m a little confused. Were you one of my students, Cassie?”
    “You honestly don’t remember?”
    He was growing embarrassed. He shook his head. “Afraid not.”
    “We came here once. To these falls. A long time ago. We stood in this very spot.”
    “Ah.” He gave her a pained smile. “I’m afraid you’ve mistaken me for someone else. I never came to the falls with anyone but Beatrice.”
    She felt her heart break. “Beatrice?”
    “My wife. The light of my life. She passed away last year.” He looked across the gorge to the other side, where tree branches feathered toward a darkening sky. “This was one of our favorite spots.” He glanced compassionately at her. “Are you all right? I think you’ve got me confused with someone else.”
    She shook her head and smiled. Tears sprang to her eyes. She stood inhaling the cold air. It was an overcast weekday in December. There were no other hikers on the trail with them, and she’d seen very few cars in the parking lot. She turned to him and said, “You were the love of my life.” He gave her a sobering look, but before he could stop her, she ducked under the guardrail and jumped off the edge of the precipice, dirt and gravel tumbling under her feet as the ground gave way.
    Somewhere on the Border of Vermont and New York
    It began to sleet on the ride home. The asphalt grew slick and slippery. Benjamin could feel his tires gripping the road as he rumbled along in his pickup truck. He’d texted Cassie over an hour ago to ask how she was doing. She hadn’t responded yet, and it broke his heart to think he might never see her again.
    The sleet was dense and opaque in the headlights’ glare. He was shivering beneath his winter coat. He should’ve slowed down when he saw the mist crawl thickly across the road, but he wanted to get home. He was exhausted. The police had asked a lot of questions. Since it was impossible to explain, he’d made up a story about getting stuck in the snow and wandering onto Colton Thorpe’s property by accident. It was bullshit, but when the police discovered the dungeon in the basement and the deformed dog in the cage upstairs, they let him go. They told him they’d be in touch.
    Now he took the next corner a little