Chapter Eighteen

He felt hollow and lifeless.

He didn't know how long had passed just that he had remained in the same position for days on end trying to make sense of everything.

It was raining, right?

He had no idea.

He stared into the distance, it had gotten dark. Darkness did set here, he realized.

But there were no stars. The darkness depicted how he felt perfectly—alone.

The cold caress of the rain seemed ineffective on his skin; for some reason, he couldn't feel it. He just sat there in the downpour, his clothes wet.

"For how long are you going to sit there and mop, Jake. Do you miss her?" Lightning struck overhead and William didn't move a muscle, he was as still as a statue.

He'd been like that for five days now, it seemed Fil was tired of it. He hadn't said a word since they'd returned.

"Do you miss her fuzzy brown eyes?" Will heard the crunching of wet sand behind him as the rain intensified,

"Do you miss her smile, her scent?"