Third Person POV
Helen stood perfectly still at the very edge of the moving stream.
The water rushed past her bare feet, cold and entirely indifferent to her pain, already carrying her little daughter far away to a place where her mother could not follow.
The thick white mist crawled slowly across the muddy bank, curling around her ankles like heavy ropes trying to hold her in place.
But she did not move a single muscle.
She just stared blankly at the exact spot where the reed basket had vanished around the sharp bend.
She stared at the curve in the stream where the water turned, where the ancient trees bunched together to block out the light, and where the very last trace of her sweet baby girl had disappeared into the grey fog.
Then, she slowly turned her body around. Her pale grey eyes were not grey anymore.
The soft color had completely shifted, deepening into a shade so dark it looked like the deep ocean where the sunlight could no longer reach.
