Though we knew the thing to be scared of still waited for us in the water, mom and I stood at the threshold to the basement, making no move to descend down the stairs.
There was a baby crying down there.
The sound was faint, and hollow, and terribly sad.
I squeezed mom’s trembling hand. “I can do this alone if you can’t… If you don’t think you can…”
“I know that Davey is gone,” she said, and glanced back out through the doors, to the ghost in the lake. “But I got to say goodbye. She never… Emma, to be separated from her child all this time…” Mom’s voice cut off on a sob.
So we took it step by step, down into the cold basement, following the quiet cries of Amara’s child.
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