The river was cold.
So cold it felt like knives slicing into her skin.
Somewhere between the chaos of the cliff and the endless pull of the current, Chloe had blacked out.
Now, she gasped awake, coughing up water, her body wracked with shivers.
The sky above her was a dull gray, the rain having slowed to a fine mist.
All around her was mud and rocks, the river's angry roar softer now in the distance.
Her body ached.
Her head throbbed.
But she was alive.
Somehow, impossibly... she had survived.
With a groan, Chloe pushed herself onto her elbows, coughing until her throat burned. Every movement felt like dragging lead. Cuts and bruises covered her arms, her hospital gown torn and clinging wetly to her frame.
She sat there for a long moment, dazed, staring at the churning river that had nearly claimed her life.
Then the memories slammed into her,
The snake-tattooed man.
The woman with the scar.
The shove.
The endless fall.
Tears welled up in her swollen eyes, mixing with the rain on her cheeks.
Slowly, painfully, Chloe forced herself to her feet. Her legs barely held her weight, trembling violently, but she stumbled forward anyway, driven by pure instinct.
Somewhere out there... safety waited.
Somewhere out there... Nate.
"Nate," she croaked aloud, her voice hoarse and broken.
The woods pressed in around her as she staggered away from the river, bare feet sinking into mud, each step agony.
Branches tore at her arms.
The cold gnawed into her bones.
But she didn't stop.
She couldn't.
Minutes, maybe hours passed, time lost meaning entirely, before the trees began to thin and she spotted lights flickering through the mist.
A town.
Small, quiet, almost ghostly under the gray sky.
Run-down houses. A gas station. A diner with a neon "OPEN" sign buzzing faintly in the gloom.
The first living thing she saw was a stray dog, thin and ragged, trotting across the street.
Hope flickered weakly in her chest.
She stumbled into the town, drawing stares from the few people brave enough to be outside in the cold.
A woman at the gas station froze, her hand halfway to the pump, her mouth falling open at the sight of Chloe's battered figure.
Someone whispered, "Oh my God..."
But Chloe barely noticed.
Her feet carried her forward until she collapsed against the diner's front window, the warmth inside a painful contrast to the chill that had settled in her bones.
Inside, a man looked up from his coffee, eyes widening.
The waitress dropped her notepad.
Someone opened the door and rushed toward her.
"Honey, are you alright? Oh my God, someone call an ambulance"
Chloe's vision blurred as strong hands caught her, steadying her.
And then,
The memories crashed into her all at once.
The cliff.
The fall.
The betrayal.
The raw terror of being hunted like an animal.
She broke.
A raw, broken sob tore from her throat as she clutched at the stranger holding her, collapsing fully into them. Tears poured down her bruised face, the dam inside her shattering beyond repair.
"I'm sorry," she choked out between sobs, though she didn't even know why. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry..."
The world around her faded into noise.
******
The fluorescent lights above her hummed quietly, a steady, sterile sound that grated against Chloe's frayed nerves.
She sat stiffly on the hospital bed, a thin blanket wrapped around her trembling frame.
The nurses had cleaned her cuts and dressed her wounds. An IV dripped saline into her bruised arm.
She wore a fresh hospital gown now, but she still felt exposed, naked, vulnerable.
A doctor, middle-aged with kind eyes, sat across from her with a clipboard in his hands.
"Miss," he said gently, "we just need your name. Someone we can contact. Family, friends. You've been through a lot."
Chloe shook her head slowly, jaw clenching.
"I... I can't," she whispered.
The doctor leaned forward slightly, voice soft. "You're safe now. Whoever hurt you can't reach you here. I promise you that."
Safe.
The word echoed bitterly inside her.
She had believed she was safe once before.
And look where it got her.
"No," she said again, voice firmer this time, hugging the blanket tighter around herself.
"I don't want... I can't tell anyone who I am."
The doctor exchanged a quick glance with the nurse standing by the door.
A silent conversation passed between them.
They thought she was scared.
Fragile.
Broken.
And maybe she was.
But Chloe knew better than to trust too quickly now.
"Okay," the doctor finally said, writing something down on his clipboard.
"You have that right. You don't have to say anything you're not ready to."
He stood up, smoothing his white coat.
"We'll call you a Jane Doe for now. But if you change your mind… just press the call button, alright?"
Chloe gave a tiny nod.
The door clicked softly shut behind them, leaving her alone with the steady beep of machines and the cold air.
Slowly, she turned her head toward the window.
Rain still pattered against the glass, a slow, mournful rhythm.
She thought about Nate.
Did he even know she was alive?
Was he searching for her?
Had he given up?
The thought pierced her deeper than the cuts on her skin.
Tears pricked the corners of her eyes again, but she blinked them away fiercely.
No.
She wasn't the same helpless girl anymore.
First, she needed to heal.
Find out who had betrayed her.
Find out why they had taken her.
And when she was ready… she would go back.
Not as a victim.
As someone who would make sure it never happened again.
She touched the bandage at her side, feeling the faint throbbing of her wounds, a reminder.
A promise.