Not again. I couldn’t lose her. Not like this.
Behind me, I heard Declan softly talking to Nora as he carried her back to shore. Rory wrapped his coat around her small body, his face grim as he watched me.
“I can’t find her!” Panic gripped my throat. “She must have gone under the current!”
There was only one option left. I shrugged off my jacket and took a deep breath.
“Jake, don’t—!” Declan’s shout was cut off as I dove into the hole.
The cold hit me like a physical blow, driving the air from my lungs. Darkness enveloped me completely. I forced my eyes open against the sting, searching blindly in the black water. The current tugged at my legs, threatening to pull me under the ice shelf.
My lungs began to burn. I needed air, needed to surface, but I couldn’t leave her down here. My hand swept through the water in desperate arcs.
And then—something. Silky strands floating in the current. It was her hair.
I grabbed a fistful and pulled, kicking hard against the water’s grip. My head broke the surface with a gasp, and I hauled her upward with all the strength left in me. Ella’s face emerged beside mine, pale as the moon, her eyes closed.
“I’ve got her!” I choked out. “Help me!”
Declan was there instantly, lying flat on the ice at the edge of the hole, arms extended. I pushed Ella toward him, and he caught her shoulders, dragging her onto the solid surface. I clawed my way out of the frigid water and followed him as he carried her closer to the riverbank.
“Is she breathing?” I gasped, collapsing to my knees where Declan had lain her.
He pressed two fingers to her throat, his face hardening. “No pulse.” He positioned his hands over her sternum and started compressions—hard, rhythmic thrusts that made her body jerk lifelessly against the ice. “Take over her breathing when I count to thirty,” he ordered, never breaking his cadence. I nodded, already tilting her head back, pinching her nose, and waiting.
“Twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty,” Declan counted, and I sealed my mouth over hers, breathing into her still body. Her lips were blue, ice-cold against mine. I gave two full breaths, watching her chest rise and fall mechanically with the air I forced into her.
“Mommy! Wake up, Mommy!” Nora’s criesreached me, and I swore to God, I’d dive right back in that water if we couldn’t bring Ella back; I couldn’t bear to hear her heart-wrenching sobs tear at my heart for the rest of my life.
“Come on, Ella,” I growled as Declan resumed compressions. “Don’t you dare leave us.”
Thirty more compressions, two more breaths. Her skin was ghostly white, her hair plastered against her face in frozen strands. In the background, I could hear Nora’s terrified sobs and Rory trying to comfort her. The sound tore through me like shrapnel.
“Breathe, damn it!” I shouted between breaths, my voice cracking with desperation. “Nora needs you. I need you. Come back to us!”
Another round of compressions, more breaths. My own body was shaking violently from the cold, but I barely felt it. All I knew was that I couldn’t lose her—not like this, not when we’d barely begun.
“Ella, please,” I begged, my lips against her ear before the next breath. “Fight. You’re the strongest woman I know. You have to fight for Nora. For me.”
Just as I was leaning over her, my entire world narrowed to the rhythm of Declan’s compressions and the desperate breaths I forced into her lungs. Time seemed to stretch; each second an eternity of fear and hope battling within me.
Then suddenly—a cough. Weak and wet, butunmistakable. Water bubbled from her lips as her body convulsed. We quickly turned her onto her side, supporting her head as she coughed up the water from her lungs.
“That’s it,” I urged, my voice breaking with relief. “Breathe, Ella. Just breathe.”
Her eyelids fluttered, then opened. Confusion clouded her gaze before recognition dawned. “N-Nora,” she rasped, trying to sit up.
“She’s safe,” I assured her, brushing wet hair from her face. “She’s right here with us.”
Declan was already shrugging out of his jacket to wrap it around her. “We need to get her warm. Now.”
My body shook violently. I couldn’t carry her despite wanting to. “I can’t—”
“I got her,” he said, hoisting her into his arms.
As we reached solid ground, a figure emerged from the trees—Mikhail, his face bloody but determined.
“We got them,” he panted. “All of them. Caleb’s securing the scene.” His eyes fell on Ella’s limp form and widened in horror. “Is she—?”
