12:53pm. That’s the last time I remember seeing on my phone. We had been settling into our campsite – my wife, Kaylee, and her sister, Kim, and Sam, Kim’s new boyfriend. Sam had suggested the spot – a little more remote than the high-amenity sites we’d usually hit, but the long gravel road hadn’t been too bad, and setting up camp without the noise of other sites was a welcome change.
We sat in a small circle on the ground, laughing as we made our way through an early afternoon bottle of wine. The sisters sat side by side in nearly identical tank tops. Kaylee’s bright red hair flowed over her considerable bust, adding framing to her pale cleavage. Kim lacked Kaylee’s size, but what she lacked up top she made up for in her hips and those ample cheeks her leggings struggled to contain.
That’s about when I checked my phone. Kim announced, with much fanfare, that she had to pee. She bounded away into the woods, her short curly brown hair bouncing with each step. We continued with our drinks, laughing at some lame joke Sam had made, until we saw Kim walking slowly back to camp. Her gait was straighter, and her face was nearly ashen. Even from a distance the tremble in her hand was obvious.