“Of all people, I never thought he would... He wrapped his hands around my throat. For a split second, I didn’t realize how much trouble I was in. Then...then I tried to scream.” She gasped as if she needed oxygen. “I pulled at him. Shoved him. I couldn’t breathe! Everything was rolling, lights were sliding and shaking.” She talked faster and faster. “Starbursts exploded behind my eyes, and I think I lost consciousness—”

It took a moment before he realized she was finished. “How did you get into the ocean?”

“I don’t know.”

He remembered his first impression, that she’d been dead when she was thrown in. But that wasn’t possible. After so many hours, she couldn’t return from the dead. “What you described was an unprovoked assault.”

“I was stupid. I know better. Always listen to your instincts.”

“Yes.” He knew that all too well. “We all have moments of stupidity that we regret.”

“I don’t want regrets. I don’t want to be afraid!” In a lower tone, she added, “I don’t know if I can walk.”

“Let’s get some more water in you.” He passed her his canteen.

She sipped, and sipped again.

“Can you eat something?” He unwrapped and offered one of the energy bars he carried in the ATV.

She tried to break off a piece. Her hands shook too much.

He broke it for her. It was painful to watch as she chewed and swallowed. And swallowed again as if the swelling in her throat made it all too difficult.

The bruises on her throat were getting darker, more pronounced. Her eyes were more haunted, more afraid. She looked at the wooden shower structure with both longing and fear. “I want... I need to wash. I’m crusty with salt, and I want... I want to be clean. I want to clean away the night.” Her voice wobbled.

“I’ll help you. Come on.” He slid out of the seat. “I’ll help you shower.” He thought she might sensibly refuse.

Instead she waited for him to come around and lift her out.

When she put her weight on her feet, she sagged, then straightened. She leaned on him, pushed herself off the ATV and staggered like a drunk.

He pulled her arm over his shoulder and half carried, half dragged her toward the shower.

He owned an acre adjacent to the highway. His four-room house was old, square and tiny. One small bedroom, one cramped bath, a miniature kitchen and a living area large enough for a love seat, a recliner, an end table and a TV he seldom used. Years of salt and wind and rain had given the house that sad, slumped look, like an old woman who remembered better times.