ISABELLA
The shouting started before I even reached the riverbank. Rescuers were clustered near the water, voices low and urgent, the kind of tone that made my stomach twist. Tobias moved ahead of me, boots sinking into the mud, his posture rigid. My heart hammered against my ribs as I pushed through the crowd.
A stretcher. A body. Dark suit. Dark hair. Same build. For a moment, the world narrowed to a single point — the shape beneath the tarp. My breath caught. My vision blurred. My knees nearly buckled.
Tobias stepped beside me, silent, waiting. One of the rescuers lifted the tarp just enough for me to see the face.
Or what was left of it.
The water had taken its time. The skin was pale, bloated, beginning to decompose. The features were distorted, unrecognizable. But my heart knew.
