Bad day at school? Tomorrow will be better. Tomorrow Sarah will share her cookies at lunch and we'll play on the swings and everything will be fine.
Failed a test? Next week I'll study harder. Next week I'll get an A and my parents will put it on the fridge and I'll feel proud.
Got my heart broken in college? Someday I'll meet someone who loves me. Someday I'll have a house with a garden and a dog and a life that makes sense.
The future was always my escape.
The promise ofbetterwas always enough to get me through.
But right now, I can't see the future.
Right now, all I can see is blood on carpet and shattered glass and the empty space where a bullet would have gone through my skull if someone hadn't stopped it.
"Marina."
Dante's voice cuts through the static.
I blink.
We're in a stairwell.
Going down.
His arm is around my waist, half-carrying me because my legs aren't working right.
"Stay with me," he says. "Talk to me."
Talk.
Talk about what?
My mouth opens.
"When I was eight," I hear myself say, "I wanted to be a marine biologist."
The words come out flat. Disconnected. Like someone else is speaking and I'm just watching.
But Dante doesn't stop walking.
Doesn't tell me to be quiet.
"Marine biologist," he repeats. "Why?"
"I saw a documentary about dolphins." My voice sounds far away. "They were so... free. Swimming in the ocean. No walls. No cages. Just endless blue."
We reach a landing.
Turn.
Keep going down.
"Did you ever swim with dolphins?" Dante asks.
"No." I shake my head. The movement feels strange. Delayed. "I was scared of the ocean. Isn't that funny? I wanted to study it, but I was terrified of it."
"What scared you?"
"The depth." I stare at the concrete steps passing under my feet. "Not knowing what was underneath. All that darkness below the surface."
