“Are they coming back?” Therran’s voice cracked, brittle with fear.


    I forced a smile that probably looked as hollow as it felt.


    “Not tonight,” I lied. The words slid out smooth, but doubt clung to my skin like the damp fog around us.


    Therran leaned forward, his curiosity cutting through the fear.


    “What are they? The monsters?”


    I sighed, gripping the oar tighter, the wood grounding me.


    “Not monsters exactly. More like cracks.” My voice dropped low. “Fractures in the river. Places where the rules stop making sense.”


    “Cracks?” Therran’s forehead furrowed, his gaze darting to the mist around us as if he might spot one.


    “The river has rules,” I said, my tone clipped. “When you break those rules—when you cheat—things start falling apart. Those… things out there?” I jerked my chin toward the shifting fog. “They’re what happens when the balance tips. They’re hungry, and they’re drawn to what doesn’t belong.”


    The kid’s face went pale. His hands gripped the edge of the boat like a lifeline.


    “So… they’re after us?”


    I exhaled sharply.


    “Not you,” I said, glancing at him. “They’re after me.”


    His sharp eyes caught the cracks in my words.


    “Why? What did you do?”


    I didn’t answer right away. My focus stayed on the mist, the way it swirled and pulsed like it was alive.


    “Nothing you need to worry about,” I muttered. “Just remember this: don’t look them in the eye, and don’t speak to them. They hate being ignored.”


    “And lied to?” His voice was barely a whisper.


    I flinched at his quickness, but before I could reply, he pressed on, his voice trembling.


    “Like the man under the water? You said he wasn’t one of them. What about his story?”


    I rubbed a hand over my face, suddenly feeling the weight of the oar in my grip.


    “His story’s… complicated,” I admitted. “But no, he’s not one of them. He’s something else entirely. And right now, we’ve got bigger problems.”


    Therran’s lips tightened like he was biting back more questions, but he just nodded. The tension in his small frame was palpable.


    “What if they catch up?”


    I fixed him with a hard stare.


    “They won’t, as long as you do exactly what I say. Stay quiet. Keep your head down. Don’t listen to anything they whisper. Understand?”The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    The kid nodded again, though his eyes were still wide, still brimming with questions I didn’t want to answer. I returned my gaze to the water, but my mind drifted elsewhere—back to the cliffs, jagged and looming like the edge of a knife. Back then, I hadn’t known when to stop. I’d taken too much, pushed too far, until there was nothing left to take but the plunge.


    And her voice echoed in my mind:


    “We can’t outrun this, Kaelith. The river will come for us.” Charys had always seen the cracks in me, the things I refused to see in myself. But I crossed the line anyway, dragging her down with me.


    The oar slipped in my grip, and I steadied myself, forcing the memories back.


    “I broke something,” I said aloud before I could stop myself.


    Therran turned to me, confused.


    “What did you break?”


    I tightened my grip on the oar until my knuckles ached.


    “The balance,” I said simply. “The river has rules. I crossed them when I died. I wasn’t supposed to be here, but I am. And now the cracks are spreading.”


    Silence. Therran stared at me, trying to piece it all together. When the question came, it was quiet, hesitant.


    “Are you… dead?”


    I nodded, the motion slow and deliberate.


    “A long time ago.”


    His mouth opened like he wanted to say something, but no words came. I didn’t need to hear them—I’d asked myself the same questions long ago.


    The river’s hum grew louder, a low vibration that resonated in my chest. We were nearing the midpoint. The place where stories ended. Where the dead let go.


    I reached for the ledger, its worn leather cover cool under my fingers.


    “Your story,” I said, breaking the silence. “I need to hear it.”


    Therran blinked, his brows knitting together. “Why?”


    “Everyone comes to the river for a reason,” I said, my voice gravelly. “If you want to leave it, you have to finish what brought you here.”


    His hands tightened on the boat’s edge, his small frame trembling. He was quiet for a moment before he spoke, his voice barely audible. “I wasn’t supposed to die.”


    I stayed quiet, letting him find the words.


    “It was an accident. I was playing near the cliffs, and the rocks gave out. I fell into the water, but… I wasn’t alone.” He hesitated, his breath hitching. “A man pulled me out. He saved me. But when I woke up, he was gone.”


    The weight of his words hit me like a blow. Therran’s story wasn’t finished. He wasn’t dead—not entirely. His soul lingered in limbo, caught between the world he’d left and the one that hadn’t claimed him yet. Unfinished.


    I leaned forward, my voice sharper than I intended.


    “What did he look like? The man who helped you?”


    Therran flinched at my tone but didn’t back down.


    “Tall. Dark hair. Scar on his cheek. He said his name was Aric.”


    The name hit me like a sucker punch. Aric.


    “What else did he say?” I pressed, my voice rough with the kind of desperation I thought I’d buried long ago.


    Therran hesitated, his eyes darting to the mist.


    “He said he’d come back for me. But he didn’t. I waited, and that’s when the mist came.”


    Anger surged through me, hot and bitter. Aric had broken the river’s rules, just like I had. His interference had left Therran’s story incomplete, a beacon for the monsters in the mist.


    The balance was off, the river’s currents growing heavier with every stroke. I could feel it deep in my chest, the weight of my mistakes coming back to haunt me.


    And Aric? He was the reflection of everything I’d tried to bury. Everything I couldn’t outrun.