We spent my twentieth birthday in the city. What started out as me picking out a new pair of jeans and some boots ended up as a marathon shopping spree—even though that wasn’t usually my style, and even though we’d agreed Danny would just get me something small this year, since he was paying for our trip to Atlanta in September. Instead, Danny ended up buying me the most expensive riding breeches out there, with completely overpriced chaps to match.

After that, we drove out to Lake C to camp for the weekend. We pitched our tent in our usual spot, a secluded area in a wild meadow where dogs were permitted as well. The one disadvantage was that it was a long walk to the bathrooms, but neither of us minded that. On the plus side, it was right by the lake, and we had a whole section of meadow to ourselves.

A gigantic storm surprised us the first night. I sat bolt upright, frightened awake by the thunder outside, and then realized Danny wasn’t in the tent. I wasn’t surprised, though. He loved thunderstorms and other natural phenomena, and even at home he often got up in the middle of the night to enjoy them outside. I left Leika behind in the tent and tramped barefoot through the already swampy meadow. The rain was warm, but very heavy—I was soaked to the skin within seconds.

I didn’t have to search for him long. I knew Danny’s favorite spots, and even from far away, I could see him sitting there on the muddy lakeshore. He wasn’t wearing shoes, either, and his wet T-shirt and shorts were clinging to his body.

Silently, I sat down in front of him, positioning myself between his knees. He wrapped his arms around me, and we sat there for a while, watching the storm. Nets of bright lightning crisscrossed the sky, tearing through the air with deafening cracks.

“I’m going to die,” Danny said suddenly. “My goal was to get to at least thirty, but now I know I’ll never make it that long. I won’t even see twenty-five.”

I turned to look at him, brushing my wet hair out of my face. “Why are you saying that? You’re always optimistic—why are you talking like this?”

Danny shrugged. “Just intuition. All of a sudden, I started getting these weird feelings. It’s not like I’ve consciously started thinking negatively or anything… I can’t really explain it.”

A chill ran down my back, and I began to shiver—it was like my organs were freezing inside my body. I remembered that vague feeling he’d gotten about Christina, when he’d told me that she was lost to us forever. I pressed my palms to my ears, squeezing the sides of my head, trying to forget what I’d just heard, to convince myself that it was all just words.

Long after the thunder had died away, I was still sitting there as though turned to stone.

Finally, Danny took my hands and put them in his lap. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, gazing at me intently through the rain. “I won’t say things like that anymore.”

My heart began hammering wildly. He wouldn’t say them anymore? That didn’t mean he’d stop thinking them, only that he’d keep them from me in order to protect me. I began to panic. I’ve never been prone to panic attacks, but I had one that night. I clutched my throat and began to hyperventilate, terrified that I was going to suffocate. The more I breathed, the less oxygen I got. I wanted to scream, but I just didn’t have the air.

Danny picked me up and carried me away from the place we’d been sitting, away from his panic-inducing words. I clung to his neck as he walked with me into the lake and set me down in the cold, waist-deep water. The panic evaporated instantly. My head was clear again; whatever premonitions I’d been having suddenly seemed surreal.

“Come on,” Danny said, taking my wrist and pulling me along behind him, the way he liked to do.

We swam through the ice-cold water, fully clothed, in the middle of the night, in the pouring rain. Afterward, we ran back to the tent, threw our clothes in the grass, snuggled down underneath our blanket, naked and wet, and made love. We pressed our bodies close together, warming each other, and I prayed silently that this weekend with him at the lake would never end.

 

***

 

The long-awaited call came sometime in June: Detective Wildermuth informed us that they’d taken the man they’d been looking for into custody. He’d admitted to having lured Christina into his apartment with the promise of a fix, and then held her there against her will and sexually assaulted her twice. Afterward, he’d given her the contaminated heroin, though the police believed his assertion that he hadn’t known it was toxic.

They’d gotten him on a number of other charges as well. He’d confessed to raping several other young girls and dealing large quantities of drugs. He also had a previous conviction for assault. This time, they gave him three years.

“Three years,” Danny said bitterly. “Three goddamn years for a person’s life. And then he’ll get out and go strolling around in the world like nothing happened. And Tina will be dead forever.”

“You can’t think of it that way,” I said. “It’s not three years for a life. They didn’t hold him responsible for her death. She took the stuff voluntarily. Think of it as an accident. Nobody wanted it to happen, not even that guy. It was an accident.”

“Three years,” Danny repeated. Then he turned his eyes toward heaven and spoke his first and only prayer. “Please, God, let me live that long! I promise you, as soon as he’s out, I’ll get him. And when I’m done with him, he’ll be on his knees begging me to let him die.”