"Why do all your dreams include running?" Cherry asked as they walked along the beach sipping their coffees.

"They don't all include running," Sam said, "do they?"

"Really? Do you hear yourself," Cherry shook her head, "you tell me about these weird dreams you have, and you're either running to or from something ..." Cherry raised her eyebrows, "... every time."

"Hmmm, guess it has to mean something," Sam nodded, sipping her coffee.

"Maybe you should see someone about why," Cherry's eyes lit with mischief, "you know ... get to understand what your subconscious is telling you."

"Maybe it's telling me to run from this conversation," Sam said, grinning, "and I'm not falling for another of your "try this" tactics. The last time I ended up on a dojo floor learning how not to die ... I'm not going to lie on any couch to find out why I'm always running in my dreams."

Cherry's blue eyes sparkled as she smiled innocently. Flipping her waist-length sheet of blonde hair nonchalantly, "The journey to discovery could be so ... enlightening."

Sam stopped walking, "What have you been up to?"

"Come on, Sam," Cherry begged, "you've been in my life so long I cannot imagine going on this adventure without you."

"You only want me to come because I usually get us out of whatever crazy scheme you get us into," Sam said, "I'm not doing it this time. Take someone else."

Cherry stared blankly at her best friend, "Samantha, it's a non-refundable birthday gift."

"Don't call me that ... you know I ... what?" Sam frowned, "my birthday isn't for another three months."

"I know," Cherry nodded, "that's why I booked the spots now, so we can prepare beforehand for a river rafting journey on your birthday."

"River rafting?" Sam said blankly, "you got ...river rafting?"

"Yes," Cherry smiled, "you always wanted an adventure."

"Life with you has been nothing else," Sam sighed, starting to amble once more, "what's wrong with a day at the spa or the good old dinner and a movie."

"Boring and overdone," Cherry waved her hand in the air, "life happens only once, and it needs to be lived."

"You also need downtime and rest," Sam said, glancing at her friend, surprising a look she hadn't seen in a long time, "when are you going to face the fact that it wasn't your fault your parents died in that car crash."

"Probably never," Cherry whispered, "I don't want to miss out on anything ... like they did."

"What makes you think they missed out on anything?" Sam asked, grasping Cherry's arm and drawing them to a stop.

"They were young when they had me," Cherry said, "very young ... I never saw them do anything other than work, sleep, eat and look after me."

"Did you ever think that is what they wanted?" Sam asked. "No one forced them to keep you. It was their decision to live as they did. We know better than anyone else they didn't need to work ..." Sam sighed. "I don't believe they would want you to throw yourself into every dangerous situation because you survived. Nor do I believe that you were manipulated to survive."

"You weren't in the car," Cherry swallowed hard, her gaze tortured and haunted. "You didn't hear the horrible things I said ... even though I apologised right after ..." Cherry shook her head, "I don't want to talk about this now."

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

"When are you going to face the facts?" Sam asked, "when are you going to stop punishing yourself? When will you forgive yourself for pulling through when neither of them did?"

"I didn't pull through ... I said I don't want to talk about this," Cherry hissed, "please."

"Cherry, it's been five years," Sam sighed, "five years I have watched you try and kill yourself. Think how that makes me feel. One day, I'll wake up, and you'll have done something, tried to experience something, and succeeded in joining your folks. I don't want to see you live that way ... you're not happy."

"I'm happy enough ..." Cherry interrupted, "now, are you coming with me on the trip or not."

Sam looked at her best friend, sadness clouding her eyes, "Yes, Cherry ..." she whispered, "I'll come. Besides, it's my birthday present, right?"

"Right," Cherry nodded, inhaling and facing the crashing waves on the smooth sand a short space from their feet, "it's going to be epic."

Sam stared out at the ocean, worry and concern tugging at her. She would need to get the details for this trip and check out the activities to ensure Cherry hadn't signed them up for anything life-threatening.

"Where is the trip happening?" Sam asked.

"On a river," Cherry smiled, "in the wild."

"I'm being serious," Sam said, "I'm not going until you tell me where it is exactly."

"Spoilsport," Cherry pouted, "I'll send you the itinerary and dates."

"That would be wonderful," Sam said, "now ... lunch?"

"Oh yes, please," Cherry clapped her hands, "where shall we go ... oh I know ... somewhere with the view of the ocean."

Looking at the beach strip full of restaurants, Sam laughed, "They all have a view of the ocean," she looked at Cherry, "will you pick one, please."

Closing her eyes, Cherry randomly pointed, then opened them, "Oh dear."

Sam tried to smother a laugh, choked, then burst out laughing, "I don't think he serves food of any kind."

"Um ..." Cherry reddened to the roots of her blonde hair, "perhaps the place behind him."

"That would be a better choice," Sam wiped at her eyes, meeting the bewildered gaze of the tall, tanned man stepping out of a very expensive land rover. "Let's go before he thinks we're some insane women."

"By the look on his face," Cherry giggled, "I think he already does."

"Now, choose a place to eat; there are two behind him," Sam shook her head, linking her arm through Cherry's as they walked toward the road.

Leaving Cherry to the decision, she glanced over her shoulder, confirming the sensation of being watched. A pair of hazel eyes followed them until they entered the restaurant. The frown puckered between the brows remained as he turned toward the ocean.

"Charles, I found her," the urgent message was whispered, "I'm telling you I found Cherry. Don't "Stan-we've-danced-this-before" me."

Frustration ripped through Stanley Meyer when listening to the voice on the other end. Rolling his eyes, he cut across the conversation on the other side, "I'm on the beach, getting ready to go surfing. She was pointing right at me ..." he paused. "Charles, I'm not kidding. She is alive and well. I don't know why they told you the entire family was wiped out, but I'm going to dig deeper and find out."

Cancelling the call, Stan watched the two women chat in the ocean-facing window. Snapping a few pictures, he climbed into his car and downloaded them onto his laptop, still open on the passenger seat.

"Dial Jeff," he instructed, and the phone confirmed the dialled number and proceeded with the connection, "come on ... come on ... come on ..."

"Jeff here," the mellow voice on the other side greeted.

"It's Stan. I've sent you some pictures," Stan said, "remember that case we were working five years ago when that entire family was wiped out ..."

"Stan, good to hear from you," Jeff said, "I've got them ... what about ... is this who I think it is?"

"I need to make sure," Stan said, "I've already contacted Charles, but you know him ..."

"Yeah, not wanting to go there or talk about losing his girlfriend five years ago," Jeff7\ said, "didn't she come from money?"

"Yeah, but her parents always worked," Stan said, "I would be able to find out a certain amount, then hit a stone wall. Since your security clearance is higher than mine, see what you can find out."

"Oh, there is something already," Jeff said, "but it's not on the blonde."

"Her friend," Stan asked.

"Yes, and you're not going to like it," Jeff said, sighing, "you're not going to like this at all."