The ocean swallowed me like a fist closing around my body.
The impact knocked every shred of air from my lungs. Saltwater rushed into my nose, my mouth, my throat. The world went silent—no blades, no gunfire, no screaming wind. Only the crushing cold and the ache creeping into my bones.
I sank fast.
The weight of my clothes dragged me down, pulling me deeper into the ink-black water. I kicked, weakly, but my limbs felt heavy. My vision blurred, bubbles spiraling upward as I sank in the opposite direction.
The world faded.
A shape appeared in front of me—soft, glowing, impossible.
"Mom?" I mouthed, though no sound came out.
She stood there, suspended in the dark water as if the ocean were air, her face calm, her eyes clear—free of the infection that had destroyed her. She wasn't rott
