A Yellow Swim Trunk Caught on Pine River Rock Revealed Everything

Ahead of us, Emily pulled Noah by the hand into the shadow of the tall pine trees.

I rounded the massive trunk of a cedar, my boots sliding in the damp dirt as I tried to close the gap between us.

The roar of Cascade Creek hit me before I saw the water, a low, steady rumble that vibrated in my teeth.

Emily stood on the gravel spit where the main current narrowed into a deep, churning channel.

She was alone, her hands tucked into her fleece pockets, her gaze fixed on the center of the froth.

“Emily,” I said, my voice cutting through the noise as I reached her side. “Where is Noah?”

She did not look at me, but her fingers began to twist a strand of her blonde hair, winding it tight against her temple.

“He wanted to see the big splash,” she said, her voice high and light, carrying that familiar, mocking edge.

“Where is he, Emily?” I asked again, my fingers pressing hard into my temples.

Thomas caught up to us, his hand resting hard on my shoulder as his wire-rimmed glasses slipped down his nose.

My mother, Patricia, walked down the slope behind him, her steps slow and deliberate, her thumb rolling her silver wedding band around her ring finger.

“Noah is not here, Emily,” I said, scanning the grey-green water where logs tumbled like toothpicks.

Emily let out a sharp, nervous laugh that sounded like a dry branch snapping.

She pointed her index finger downstream toward the white foam where the water broke over the rocks.

“He was right there,” she said.

“What do you mean, right there?” Thomas asked, his voice shaking as he took two steps toward the edge.

“He wanted to test his new yellow swim trunks,” Emily said, her hand dropping from her hair to smooth her jacket.

“He was playing with his plastic dinosaur at the picnic table three minutes ago,” I said, my chest tightening.

“He got bored of that silly green toy,” Emily said, looking back at the water. “He wanted to do what the big boys do.”

Thomas took two steps toward the water, his boots sinking into the wet gravel.

“Amanda,” he said, his voice dropping an octave as he pointed downstream.