Chapter 4
We arrived at a whitewater rafting resort.
"Way better than your usual dinner-and-a-movie routine, right?" Clara looped her arm through his. "Plus, it'll bring back memories. Remember how we used to raft all the time?"
She pulled up an old photo on her phone.
Two figures soaked to the bone in the rapids, cheeks pressed together, grinning like idiots.
His expression softened. "You were terrified of water back then. Practically left claw marks on my arm."
"Stop embarrassing me." She pinched his cheek. "I'm fearless now, thank you very much."
They strolled ahead, shoulder to shoulder, before realizing I hadn't moved.
"What now?" Eric turned back, his brow creasing.
"I'm afraid of water."
He froze. Something flickered in his eyes.
Was he remembering?
The tsunami. The ruins of that beachside resort. How he'd dug through rubble for three days straight, fingers raw and bleeding.
I'd sobbed until my throat gave out, hating myself for failing to protect Mom.
His voice had been hoarse when he pulled me into his arms. "This is on me. I should've been there. I never should've taken that business trip."
He'd been working to provide for us. I didn't blame him. But after that day, water became my nightmare.
He wouldn't let me near so much as a pond.
Yet when Clara had ordered me to jump into the pool, he hadn't stopped her. That's when I understood.
My deepest fear had become an afterthought to him.
Clara bumped his shoulder. "Are you two seriously still holding grudges?"
"I arranged VIP access, got the whole crew together—but fine." She made a show of turning away. "If you don't want to go, don't force yourselves."
Eric caught her hand, his expression resigned. "I didn't say we weren't going."
He glanced at me, irritation creeping into his tone. "She went to all this trouble. Don't ruin it."
"Do we have to?" My eyes stayed locked on his.
"I'll be right there. What's the problem?" He lit a cigarette. "Be good. Don't make me repeat myself."
I lowered my gaze. "Alright."
The current was fierce. Everyone's faces lit up with excitement.
Everyone except me.
From the moment I stepped onto the raft, I squeezed my eyes shut, gripping the edge with white knuckles, trembling uncontrollably.
Last time, jumping into the pool had been a split-second decision.
This—this was slow torture.
Without warning, a hard shove from behind sent me overboard.
My life vest was gone—someone had yanked it off. I clawed desperately at the raft's edge.
Clara's voice hissed in my ear, low and venomous.
"You're quite the actress, aren't you? Eric kicked me out because of you. Feeling smug?"
I stared up at her. "You're trying to kill me?"
She grinned. "No. You're trying to kill me."
Then she jumped in after me.
"Let's see who he saves," she whispered, prying my fingers loose and shoving me toward the rapids. She grabbed the raft and screamed, "Help! Somebody help!"
Before the water closed over my head, I saw Eric leap in without hesitation—and pull her to safety.
The current dragged me under, tumbling me end over end.
I reached for something, anything. But there was nothing left to hold onto.
Just as consciousness began to slip away, a hand seized me and hauled me onto the raft.
Eric's furious voice exploded overhead.
"Helen! Clara brought you here as a favor, and you pushed her in?!"
"Get up. Kneel and apologize to her. Now."
When I stayed slumped and shaking, something wavered in his eyes.
A second later, rage swallowed it whole.
"Stop the act. How many times are you going to pull this shit?"
His patience snapped. He grabbed a fistful of my hair, trying to force me to my knees in front of her.
Something fell from my face, rolling across the wet deck with a hollow tap-tap-tap before stopping.
My prosthetic eye.
The raft went silent. Then someone screamed.
Eric froze like he'd been struck by lightning.
His head turned in jerky, mechanical increments until his gaze landed on me.
On the empty black socket where my left eye used to be.
Every drop of color drained from his face.
His legs buckled. He collapsed onto the soaked deck.
