He found her twisted and broken at the bottom of the cliff. Her sand-specked face cast a dim glow in the dying light. He should have raised the alarm. He should have called out to the figure ahead. But he knew the stories around here about that hotel. He had grown up with them. Everybody had.
So he left, noticing his feet were not alone among the hurried tracks.
It had begun again. Just like his kid had said it would.
This way of light 