We made our way onto the ice, and Casey immediately took off, showing Easton her improved crossovers. He skated beside her, offering encouragement and gentle corrections to her form.
I hung back, watching them together. The way Easton was so patient with her, so genuinely interested in her progress. The way Casey glowed under his attention, trying her absolute hardest to impress him.
It should have been like this all along,I thought, then immediately pushed the guilt away.Not now. Just enjoy this moment.
"Mom, come skate with us!" Casey called.
I glided over to them, and for a while, we skated together. The three of us made lazy loops around our section of the lake, Casey between us, occasionally grabbing both our hands.
"I want to show you the spin from the middle!" Casey called suddenly, pointing toward the center of the lake beyond the marker buoys. "It's so much prettier out there! You can see everything!"
My stomach tightened. "Casey, stay in the safe zone. The sign said—"
"But Mom, I want Uncle Easton to see it perfectly!"
"Your mom's right," Easton said gently but firmly. "Ice thickness varies, especially after warm weather. Safer to stay near shore, kiddo."
Casey's face fell, but she nodded reluctantly. "Okay."
We continued skating, and gradually Casey seemed to forget her disappointment. Easton's outlandish remarks echoed across the rink as they pretended to be figure skaters, their laughter filling the air as they comically grabbed at each other whilegliding across the ice. I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed myself as much as I did tonight.
"This is perfect," Casey sighed happily.
The words hung in the air. Easton's eyes met mine over Casey's head, and I saw the same complicated emotions I was feeling reflected there that neither of us was ready to name.
"Hey, Casey," Easton said after a moment, his voice slightly rough, "how about you show me that spin you were working on? The one you told me about on Wednesday?"
"Okay!" Casey's face lit up. She skated ahead to set up, concentration creasing her forehead.
Easton moved closer to me, his voice low. "She's amazing, Palisade. You've done an incredible job with her."
"Thank you," I managed, my throat tight. "But she gets a lot of that from my dad. He's been teaching her since—"
Movement in my peripheral vision made me glance toward Casey.
My heart stopped.
She was still skating. Further. Past where we'd been. Past the marker buoys.
Toward the center of the lake, where she'd wanted to go earlier.
"Casey!" I shouted. "Not so far out!"
But she was already positioning herself, too focused on getting the spin perfect for Easton to hear me. Or maybe she'd heard me and was pretending she hadn't.
A sharp crack echoed across the ice.
My head snapped toward the sound, and everything else disappeared.
Casey stood frozen, eyes wide, directly over a spiderweb of cracks spreading beneath her feet.
"Casey!" I screamed. "Don't move!"
But it was too late. She felt the ice shifting beneath her and tried to step backward. It was the worst thing she could have done.
The ice gave way with a sound like breaking glass.
And my daughter plunged into the freezing water.
