Move.
Fucking move.
But I can’t.
Flashbacks hijack my brain, each miserable breath feeling like fire to my lungs. Just like that, I’m eight years old all over again, watching my mother die and wishing I could wake up from a nightmare.
Save her.
Save her.
Save her.
“Finn, I can’t… The current…” Dia begs for my help every time her head pops out of the water. I’m suffocating, fear clogging up my throat. She calls my name one time, two times, three times. Then she stops, she stops moving, she stops struggling.
She just… stops.
I nearly pass out when the water becomes red.
I’m quick to understand that she hit her head against the boat’s propeller. Her blood taints the waves, her dark hair floating around her as she goes limp. Bubbles rise up to the surface as her lungs fill with water. Then she starts to sink. I want nothing more than to jump in and save her, but I don’t do anything. I just let it happen. I let her go. The words I told her return to me while I watch my Gemstone drown.
That’s the thing with love—it dies with us.
And in that moment, as the love of my life sinks to the bottom of the same lake that took my mother, I see no other option…
…but to join her.