The storm had jolted me awake, the wind howling and rain lashing into my room through the open window. How had I forgotten to close it? Groggy and disoriented, I stumbled out of bed and trudged toward the window.
As I reached to shut it, something caught my eye—a figure in the lake behind the house, swimming under the storm.
“What the…? Is that Cheryl?” I leaned closer, squinting against the rain.
It was her. She was struggling to swim back to the shore. The storm was too strong.
Adrenaline kicked in. I slammed the window shut and bolted downstairs, my heart pounding. Racing through the rain-soaked backyard, I made my way to the lake, the wind biting at my skin.
“Cheryl? What the hell are you doing in the lake during a storm in the middle of the night?” I yelled, my voice barely carry
