Stillwater
helps.”
    â€œSo I’ve heard.”
    â€œAnd I get a little high…which is nice,” she added with a knowing smile.
    â€œI’m just amazed you can get the stuff out here in the sticks.”
    Gwen laughed. “You’re right. It’s not commonplace. Luckily I have my own supplier.”
    Beth raised her eyebrows. “Really?”
    â€œIt’s Arthur actually. He has contacts. One of the benefits of working in the state school system.”
    Beth smiled to herself as she drove the short distance home. She was so immersed in the memories of the evening she almost hit the young woman, who broke from the trees and dashed across the road. Beth was suddenly aware of a white shift dress flapping in the breeze, a pale, almost white face with large frightened eyes, and long flowing hair that trailed behind her like a black cape.
    â€œShit!” she shouted, and pressed on the brake. The car lurched to a halt and she was thrown forward, her momentum halted by the seat belt, which slammed her back against the headrest.
    But there was no impact. Thankfully, miraculously, she hadn’t hit the woman: the road ahead was clear.
    Beth took a moment to compose herself, and then checked her wing mirrors. The road behind her was clear as well. There was no sign of anyone.
    She sat in her seat and looked at the trees to the left, the direction the young woman was running.
    Through the gaps between the trees she could see the Stillwater Lake, seemingly weed free now; the black mirrored surface reflected the round disc of a silvery full moon. As her panicked breathing returned to normal she thought she saw movement out there—something white, flitting from tree to tree. Now you see her, now you don’t , Beth thought.
    This was when her disability frustrated her most. A few short months ago she would have been out of the car and dashing through the trees to catch up with whoever was out there. Even if all she did was remonstrate with her about her reckless behavior. Instead she was virtually trapped in the car. She could struggle out of her seat and get into her wheelchair, but she could see from the uneven nature of the landscape it would be foolhardy, and possibly dangerous. Instead she just sat there and fumed.
    The incident brought back every memory of the accident that had robbed her of her legs.
    After a few more minutes the young woman appeared at the edge of the lake. Beth had her finger poised above the electric window button. She was about to wind down the window and shout out, but what happened next dried the words in her throat.
    The young woman glanced about her furtively, and then, with a movement that looked well practiced yet at the same time perfectly natural, she slipped into the waters of the lake and disappeared from view, leaving only a silvery wake as she glided through the water. Beth watched, mesmerized. Only when the wake smoothed out did she start the car again, and ease forward.
    She thought about the girl she had nearly run down for the rest of the short time home, but when she reached the house she was just as puzzled as when she started. Puzzled…and curious.
    Who was she? And why would she be running in the dark, through the woods at nearly one o’clock in the morning?
    Beth pulled up at the rear of the house, disembarked and wheeled herself up the ramp to the back door. The night was dark; unlike the city nights, out here there were no streetlamps, and no house lights to make even night seem bright.
    As she went to put her key in the lock she noticed that the door was slightly ajar. She drew back her hand as if it had been stung. She was almost positive she had closed and locked the door when she left the house earlier. But almost wasn’t a certainty. Get a grip , she told herself. Think . She tried to retrace her steps in her mind, but while the memory of hauling herself behind the wheel was clear, the actions leading up to that were foggy.
    Shaking her

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