'What?' he muttered, barely able to focus on her because of his salty tears.
'She's not dead, Scott. She's swimming.'
'Exactly. No-one could survive that. It's... it's the middle of winter. She'll have gotten hypothermia, she'll have drowned.'
'Scott, look at me,' she demanded.
Immediately, he pulled one hand from hers and rubbed his eyes clear. When he'd finished, she took his hand back in hers and made him look at her.
'Emma is special, Scott. She can swim like a fish, a dolphin. The water temperature isn't a problem for her. She could stay out there for ages, maybe even days, and she wouldn't be hurt. I promise you, she's very much alive.'
'Wh…what?' he said suddenly climbing to his feet, looking at her disgust. 'Is this some kind of sick joke?'
'No, Scott. I promise you it isn't
