I came to a sudden stop. It was so much better than I’d imagined.
Especially with Noah pressed up behind me—both hands on my arms now—as if holding me back from walking straight into the water.
Definitely the best day of the trip so far.
Water thundered from a cleft in the rock wall twenty feet up, curving in a wide arc before crashing into the pool below. The cliff face was lined with narrow crevices, wind-bent evergreens growing sideways from the stone, their roots clinging to life.
Where the water hit, it churned in a frothy swirl before easing into a deep, green-blue pool. The outer edges stilled into ripples. In a few places, I could see straight to the bottom—stones in muted pinks, grays, and soft corals, arranged like some underwater mosaic.
The breeze lifted again, sweeping cool mist across my face and arms. I shivered, goosebumps rising. Not from the cold—well, not just from the cold.
I glanced back at Noah, who’s eyes were wide, and…quiet. When he dropped his gaze to me, I could just feel it.
A moment of awe. Of shared wonder.
I had no words.
When I turned back to look at this majestic scene, the rocks, shaped like natural steps leading to the falls, seemed to beckon me forward.
I slipped off my backpack, set it gently on the ground, and took a careful step. As promised by the saleslady back in Grand Junction, my shoes gripped the damp stone with confidence. No slipping, no hesitation—just steady footing as I picked my way along the jagged, winding edge of the pool, mist whispering around my ankles.
“Careful, Faraday,” Noah called, his voice raised over the thunder of the falls.
“I’ve got this!” I shouted without looking back.
And I did.
I felt it in my bones.
Limitless.
Like I’d left behind the version of me that hesitated, that asked permission.
Like I could climb anything. Be anyone.
A girl who knows herself, breathing deep, heart wide open.
Limitless!
Then I landed on the next rock.
It shifted.
My breath hitched. My knee wobbled. My heart lurched, and I sucked in a sharp gasp as my brand new grippy shoes…
Lost their grip.
My arms pinwheeled, scrambling for balance—there was one fleeting second where I thought, maybe, I could catch myself.
But then?—
I went in.
I went under.
The plunge was immediate, the cold hitting me everywhere as the pool swallowed me whole. A burst of bubbles escaped my mouth—half breath, and the half scream I didn’t even have time to let out—and then I was kicking hard, instinct rising before fear could.
I broke the surface, sputtering, coughing, blinking through the water clinging to my lashes. Every inch of me prickled with cold, but I was okay. I could swim. I’d learned in the ocean, for soufflé’s sake.
