Hannah’s POV

My head snapped up at the sudden commotion in the woods. Jake cursed, and without hesitation, his hand roughly grabbed my arm. He yanked me to my feet, the sudden movement making my head spin and reminding me of the chloroform I’d inhaled earlier. “What the hell was that?” one of the guards asked, his gun trained on the treeline.

Jake’s grip tightened painfully, eliciting a whimper. “Go check it out,” he barked at his men. “And be ready for anything.”

As the guards moved toward the noise, my heart raced. Could it be…? I hardly dared to hope, but the intoxicating scent I sniffed in the air fueled a desperate optimism.

Unborn baby… I was losing it all again. And there would be no third chance.

“Hannah!” he cried, reaching for me.

But it was too late. Jake, still holding me tightly, leaned back, surrendering to gravity. As we plunged over the waterfall’s edge, I caught one last glimpse of Noah’s anguished face before the world turned upside down.

The roar of the water filled my ears as we fell; for a moment, time seemed to stand still. I thought of Noah, of the baby growing inside me, of all the unspoken things, and wished I’d spent those last two months loving him instead of fighting him. Then, we plummeted toward the churning water below, the mist enveloping us as we fell.