Had this event transpired differently, the accused witch would have been pushed off the edge and into the water. I would have yelled, rope holding my body against a tree. Samson would have waited anxiously for the test to be over. It would never have been over, however. These sorts of tests have no end.

Once he realized that, he would have taken the dagger from the box and freed me from those ropes. Together, my family, Samson, and I would have pulled the innocent young woman up. We would have ran down the rocky side of the cliff and to the sand, pulling the rope desperately to drag her out.

We would succeed. I'd untie her lifeless body, cold and soaked. I'd brush her wet hair away from face, cover her nose, and give her the breath of life.

Would she open her eyes? Would she forgive me?

I do not know, for as I said, the event did not transpire in that manner.

It was more like this.

I lost my footing. Juliet's eyes widened as she dropped the bundle of rope. Tara slowly turned around. My view was blocked as the edge of the cliff rose above me.

The side of my head struck an obtuse rock on my way down. The water splashed when I impacted it. I must have lost consciousness, for everything went black.

For a moment, my body felt cold. And in the next, I felt warmth. Heat. I pressed my head against something as soft as a pillow. I wondered if I was dreaming, if I was only asleep?

I embraced the pillow, wanting more warmth. All at once, I felt a different sensation of softness above my head.

Slowly, I opened my eyes and looked up to see an angel smiling down at me, her vibrant red-orange hair swirling around her head in soft ripples.

My gaze upwards also revealed to me the trail of blood floating to the surface. I reached for the side of my head slowly and flinched when I felt the deep gash.

In that moment, I realized this was where we would die. There was no way out. I was gradually losing consciousness, my vision was fading, and my lungs were desperate for air. Tara was tied up in ropes that refused to let her go. Her hands were tied underneath the rope around her waist, thus she could not swim free.

I preferred Tara to die wrapped in my arms then trapped in ropes. I could not remove the ropes.

The areas around my vision were getting darker, as if I was looking through a flimsy telescope.

I pulled Tara to me and embraced her with all my might. I felt her press her head into the valley between my neck and shoulder. Her flaming hair contrasted against the dark blue of the water, the white gown she wore sparkled.

A tear fell from my eye, morphed into a bubble, and flew up to the surface. My lungs screamed for oxygen. My heart ached for the wedding dress she'd never wear. Despite my growing weakness, I held on tightly to my love.

My love. My love. My one true love. I'm sorry.