Time seemed to slow and speed up simultaneously. I heard myself screaming Casey's name, saw Easton already moving, his skates cutting across the ice with terrifying speed.
"Stay back, Palisade!" he shouted at me as I tried to follow. "The ice won't hold both of us!"
I skidded to a stop several feet away, close enough to see the jagged hole where Casey had disappeared, close enough to see the dark water, but not close enough to help her.
Not close enough to save my baby.
Easton reached the edge of the broken ice, already pulling off his jacket. He dropped to his stomach, distributing his weight, and slid toward the hole.
"Casey!" he called out. "Can you hear me?"
A small hand broke the surface, fingers grasping desperately at the edge of the ice. But the ice crumbled away in her grip. Then her head emerged, mouth open in a silent scream, eyes wide with pure terror.
"I've got you!" Easton yelled. "Casey, look at me! I've got you!"
After he plunged into the water, I watched in frozen horror as he caught hold of Casey's jacket. She was thrashing, panicking, making it harder for him to get a solid grip.
"Casey, stop fighting!" Easton's voice was firm, authoritative. "Trust me, kiddo. Stop fighting and let me pull you up!"
Something in his tone must have gotten through to her because Casey went still. Easton hauled her up with a strength I didn't know existed outside of movies, dragging her out of the water and onto the more solid ice beside him.
But they weren't safe yet. Not on that weakened section.
Easton wrapped Casey in his jacket, then gathered her into his arms and crawled backward, crab-walking away from the danger zone, distributing their combined weight as much as possible.
The entire time, Casey was coughing, water streaming from her hair and clothes, her small body convulsing with shivers.
"Casey! Oh my God, Casey!" I pulled her from Easton's arms into mine as soon as they were on thicker ice. Her icy wet clothes soaked through to my skin, but I didn't care. She was breathing. She was alive.
"M-M-Mom," Casey chattered through blue lips. "I'm s-s-sorry. I d-didn't mean—"
"Shhh, baby, it's okay. You're okay." I looked up at Easton, who was breathing hard, his own clothes soaked from plunging his arms into the water. "Thank you. God, Easton, thank you…"
"We need to get her warm," Easton said, already moving. "Now. She's most likely hypothermic."
Other skaters had noticed the commotion and were heading our way. Some of them pale.
"Someone call 911," a man shouted, already pulling out his phone.
Easton was faster. His phone at his ear as he scooped Casey into his arms. "Lake Chambeau, east parking area. My friend’s daughter, six years old, she fell through the ice, and was submerged for less than a minute. She’s conscious and breathing but might be severely hypothermic."
Casey was shaking so violently I could hear her teeth chattering.
"Come on," Easton said, already moving toward the parking area after getting off the phone. "My car."
"Get in with her," he ordered as we sat on the long bench seat. "Body heat. It's the fastest way."
I climbed in without question, pulling Casey onto my lap. Easton grabbed an emergency blanket from his trunk and wrapped it around both of us, tucking it tight.
"M-Mom," Casey's teeth chattered. "I'm s-so c-cold."
"I know, baby. I know." I held her tighter, trying to transfer every bit of my warmth to her small, shivering body. "You're going to be fine."
Easton crouched by the open door, phone still pressed to his ear, giving the dispatcher more information. Then, he hung up and turned to Casey.
"Ambulance is two minutes out, kiddo. You're doing great."
Casey turned her head to look at him through the blanket, her eyes glassy but focused. "Uncle E-Easton saved m-me," she whispered to me.
