The salty spray off the ocean spatters beneath outstretched arms. The wind is gentle, lifting him higher and higher. It’s like a dark scar, that lighthouse… a twisted shadow far below him. He strains to see her, but he can’t. He feels like he’s forgetting something… something important.

Ah yes.

He can’t fly.

Adam’s eyes snap open, his loose clothing damp with sweat.

Beep beep beep. His eyes follow the sound to a panel of instruments next to the bed. The hospital then… his brain slowly piecing together the mint walls and the powerful odor of cleaning products.

Adam notices the silhouette of a uniformed police officer, her back against the hallway window.

“Fuck,” his voice hoarsely forced out. This is it… It’s over. He’s getting the chair. He was gonna start over. A second chance. But now? Musta’ been Cassie.

He has to get out! Standing, then stumbling. Vertigo. A tray of medical supplies crashes to the floor with him. So weak.

“Damnit Cassie,” he chokes.

“Who’s Cassie?” asks the officer.