T W E N T Y
I drive the boat all night long, standing at the wheel, while the others lie down, sleeping, as our boat bobs up and down on the currents. Every so often I can hear Charlie’s cries, and I have no doubt that he’s thinking of Flo. Bree leans cuddled with her arm around him, his head on her shoulder. The two of them are inseparable, and I think that if it weren’t for Bree, Charlie would be devastated right now.
I stare out at the blackness of the water, its foam racing past us as we go upriver—and all I see is Logan’s face. I see him in the water, drowning, reaching out for me. I see the whirlpool sucking him down. I see him asking for my help, and my being unable to give it. It tears me apart. Every time I close my eyes, I see his.
I feel that he is with me now, more than ever
