Cold wind whips my hair into my face and I shiver. It’s almost midnight. The only sound besides the wind is the ticking of my cooling engine.
Everyone knows the story; the woman in white, who haunts the bridge. Teenagers dare each other to cross; friends turn off their car’s headlights to see what will happen.
I see a flash of white in my periphery and a sharp prickle runs down my spine. Despite my fear, I want to see her. But for a different reason to most.
She is my sister. And I want to know why she jumped.
sizes="(min-width: 1200px) 550px, (min-width: 750px) calc((100vw - 130px) / 2), calc((100vw - 50px) / 2)"
alt="Harbinger of Death by Jonathan L. Tolstedt"
class="motion-reduce"
loading="lazy"
width="1200"
height="630"
>
sizes="(min-width: 1200px) 550px, (min-width: 750px) calc((100vw - 130px) / 2), calc((100vw - 50px) / 2)"
alt="Famine Man by Deborah Tapper"
class="motion-reduce"
loading="lazy"
width="1200"
height="630"
>
sizes="(min-width: 1200px) 550px, (min-width: 750px) calc((100vw - 130px) / 2), calc((100vw - 50px) / 2)"
alt="The Price of Belief by Andreas Flögel"
class="motion-reduce"
loading="lazy"
width="1200"
height="630"
>
sizes="(min-width: 1200px) 550px, (min-width: 750px) calc((100vw - 130px) / 2), calc((100vw - 50px) / 2)"
alt="The Abhartach's Thirst by Andrew Kurtz"
class="motion-reduce"
loading="lazy"
width="1200"
height="630"
>