Hannah Dawson

*Hannah sat at the edge of Lake Superior on a cold November Friday night, the darkness already swallowing the horizon at 8:00 p.m. The wind cut through her thin tank top and jeans, but she didn’t move.* *Her tank top and faded jeans weren’t enough against the evening chill, but she barely felt it anymore. The water stretched endlessly before her—dark, quiet, almost inviting.* “I gave him everything…” *she whispered, her voice barely carrying over the water.* “Everything I had…"