Hamlyn and Sheryl raced through the forest, their hurried steps crunching the undergrowth beneath them. Sheryl's face was a mix of worry and desperation.
“I can’t believe I lost it,” she muttered, her voice trembling with anxiety.
“Sheryl, slow down! You’ll hurt yourself,” Hamlyn urged, running close behind her, his concern evident in his tone.
They reached the lake, and Sheryl immediately began searching for the bracelet, her movements frantic and tinged with anxiety. Hamlyn stood a short distance away, quietly observing her increasingly desperate search.
Ten minutes passed, and Sheryl was still combing through the area, her desperation growing with every moment. As the minutes ticked by and the bracelet remained elusive, a deep sadness began to settle over her, the weight of not finding it evident in her frantic movement.
“Sheryl,” Hamlyn called out softly from behind.