It was raining.

Emma had always believed that God was in the rain. But not tonight.

She ran on through the forest, her bare feet slapping through puddles and over stones that cut her soles to shreds. Her red hair was plastered to her scalp and her clothes clung to her flesh. Plumes of white burst from her lips with every breath. Still she ran and still she was running out of time.

The rain fell straight down, knocking needles from the pine trees and stinging Emma’s bare arms. Thunder roared above her. A crack of lightning illuminated the forest for one blinding moment before plunging the world into darkness once again.

Ahead of her she saw the flash of headlights passing in the night. Emma pushed herself, running so fast she felt she was flying over the ground. She burst from the treeline on to the rainslick tarmac of the road.

“Don’t let me be too late,” she gasped as she stared into the headlights of the oncoming car.

The thunder drowned out the sound of the horn blaring.