I repeat it until my heartbeat slows.
Still, the feeling does not fade.
Something is wrong. I can’t name it, can’t place it, but it presses against my thoughts.
We move deeper into the woods.
The trees thin slightly, allowing just enough light for the path to remain visible. The rain eases into a soft sprinkle, tapping gently against leaves and dirt. My hair is soaked now. The water beads on my glasses, blurring the edges of the world, but I don’t bother wiping them.
Halfway down the path, I stop and bend to free a small branch tangled in Daisy’s fur.
That’s when she ran to the right side of the trail.
The leash tears from my hand, the sudden force snapping my fingers back.
“Daisy,” I shout. “Daisy, stop.”
She turns hard to the right, disappearing off the path. I run after her, heart spiking again, feet skidding as I dodge muddy puddles that were filled with rain. The ground drops suddenlybeneath me. I lose my balance and slide down into a lower area where a fallen tree lies half-buried in wet leaves.
Daisy is already there.
Barking at something.
My glasses slip from my face and hit the ground.
I reach for them blindly, blinking hard, forcing my eyes open wider as I push myself up from the damp earth. My vision swims for a moment, rain and darkness smearing everything together.
Then I see it.
Something lies beside the fallen tree.
“Daisy, come here, girl,” I say softly, keeping my voice low.
She runs toward me, and when she gets closer, I notice a dark stain matted into her fur.
My stomach tightens. I straighten slowly, fingers closing around the leash. I hold her back, keeping her close to my legs, and slide my glasses back onto my face.
I turn my head, and on the ground, there is the body.
It’s right there.
A woman lies naked on the ground, her back turned toward me. Her arms are stretched above her head. Her legs are spread unnaturally wide. Her eyes are open, glassy, and completely white. Her lips have faded into a deep, bruised purple.
Just below her neckline, pressed into her skin, is a single puzzle piece.
My breath leaves me in a sharp gasp.
“No,” I whisper. “It can’t be.”
I force myself to inhale. Then exhale. My hands move on instinct as I pull my phone from my pocket and dial.
“911, what’s your emergency?” a woman asks.
“I…” My voice is shaking. “I found a dead body. A woman. On a trail inside the Ozark woods.”
“Is she conscious or breathing?”
“No.”
