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Well, I’ll be goddamned.
Emily isn’t quite halfway across the lake, and she’s struggling in the water. I squint, and true to my initial suspicion, she’s starting to flounder.
At the rate she’s moving, she won’t make it to the far shore before she drowns.
The lake is deceptive, with strong currents hidden under its placid surface from the rivers feeding into it.
Even on my best days, it’s a challenge to swim this thing.
She’s out of her mind if she thinks she can cross it right now.
Searching the shoreline, I spot what I need: a wooden boat—white as the swans that scatter when I jump into it and shaped like a diamond with the corners smoothed down.
She must’ve been so eager to escape that she didn’t even see it.
Must be my answer to her question about babies,I muse as I start rowing.
My shoulders burn from how hard I twist the paddles. Emily doesn’t see me approaching; she’s singularly focused on her destination. When I draw closer, I notice just how much she’s struggling—gasping for breath, kicking sluggishly, and barely sending up flecks of water with each slowing motion of her arms.
“You’re exhausted,” I say loudly.
“Fuck … you …” She inhales water, coughing. “Get … away … from me!”
I drop the paddles and lean over the side. She’s within reach, but I don’t grab her. “You’ll never make it.”
“Yes … I … will!”
“There’s a quarter of a mile left to go, Kitty Cat.”
Instead of responding, she summons another burst of energy and paddle her feet behind her with reckless abandon.
She was smart enough to remove her shoes, but her clothes are weighing her down.
“Your determination is admirable,” I chuckle. “But you need to get in the boat before hurt yourself.”
Emily narrows her eyes, pursing her lips together. They’re not their normal, luscious red … There’s a sickly, pale blue to them.
She tries to lift her head higher, but all she manages to do is gulp down another mouthful of water. Her limbs part the water like she’s making a snow angel, her next kicks becoming progressively slower. Bubbles break the surface before she gets her nose up.
But her chin stays under.
“Emily!” My heartbeat quickens.
She dips beneath the water again with her eyes scrunched tight. Another swing of her left arm, then her right …
And then nothing.
She’s drowning!
“EMILY!” I shout, reaching over to coil my hands in her shirt. The water has made her heavier. I wrench backwards, grunting, to pull her into the boat.
Her soaked body slams into mine. The boat rocks from the impact. But she’s not moving.
“Emily!” I call to her.
Her lips were purple before, and now they’re blue from lack of oxygen. Panic fills my heart.No, no, no!Laying her down on the boat, I start chest compressions.
“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon!” I beg to whoever might be listening as sweat pours down from my brows.
