He stared at her small hand wrapped in his, knuckles white and high-lighting fine blue veins, fingers wrapped tight about his own, and he remembered how they'd met.
Such an unexpected find. He remembered how they'd immediately clicked, as if they'd known each other for decades, as though getting to know her was part new and part recalling her moods, her body and the secrets she kept hidden from everybody else.
But things were different, circumstances had changed. He had changed, though she had somehow remained the same. There was no kind way to end this, he had to let go.
When he did, she didn't stop screaming until she hit the rocks, far below.