“There’s a woman out there.” Josy wiped fog off the window and pointed between the rain drops. “On the bridge. What is she doing?”

I peered out over Josy’s blond head. “She’s looking for her husband. They were on a camping trip and he disappeared.”

“Oh. Poor lady.” She sounded more mournful than any four-year-old should. But in this world even she could not be shielded for long.

We stared out through the rain.

After dinner I left the home. Rain pattered on the hood of my black jacket. The woman was still there, staring down into the water. Was she seeing anything? I approached too quietly. When I cleared my throat, she whirled.

“Will you please accept our shelter for the night?” I asked. “It’s dangerous out here.” And we usually pulled in the bridge for the night.

“No. I’m going back to wait for my husband.” As she spoke, she was already walking toward the mainland.

“Wait! Wait!” I yelled, but she disappeared into the darkness. The echo of my voice was the only sound aside from the falling rain.