The Girl I Funded Stole Him

I have always been able to see the red strings.

They are thin, glowing threads of fate, anchoring one soul to another. When two people share a deep, intimate bond, a line appears between them.

Jack and I were high school sweethearts. For eight years, a single, vibrant crimson thread ran from my chest straight to his, steady and unbroken.

For his twenty-eighth birthday, we planned a weekend trip with our closest friends to hike the rugged backcountry of the northern ridges. Jack was an avid outdoorsman, the kind of guy who lived for the trail.