I wanted to laugh. I wanted to scream.
Before he left, he turned back to the sea.
“Keep searching,” he told his men. “They’re not dead. Isabella swims well. The kid too. They’re probably trying to run. Trying to get away from me.”
Run? Me?
I could barely breathe.
Water burned my throat. My arms shook so hard I thought they would snap. Ryle coughed, small hands clawing at my neck.
“It’s okay,” I tried to say, but it came out as bubbles. “Mom’s here.”
The waves did not care.
Above us, the helicopter lifted, carrying Roxanne away like she was made of glass. Below, the sea pulled us down like we were nothing.
DAVID'S POV
Roxanne was asleep when I got her back to the hospital.
She looked small on that big bed. Pale. Fragile. Like she might shatter if the lights were too bright. I sat beside her and held her hand, careful, gentle. Her skin was warm. Mine felt cold.
Even asleep, she was crying.
“David…” she murmured, barely audible. “Don’t leave me. I’m scared.”
My chest tightened. I leaned closer, lowering my voice. “I’m here. Rest. You’re safe.”
But my mind would not shut up.
The sea kept crashing in my head. Over and over. Isabella’s face right before she jumped.