Susanna told me once that she loved the sound of crickets. She said it made her feel safe. She talked to the crickets often, offering her voice to the gentle symphony of wings floating above the hum of the night.

She’s gone. Everyone is looking for her, including me. The last time I saw her, she was sprinting at full tilt through the darkness, trying to escape the clutches of her giggling friends behind her. Then… she fell.  I don’t