Please let him cough up the water before I have to intervene.

Hudson reached down and helped me onto the ledge as Colin shot up over on his own.

“Don’t you die on us, dammit!” Alessandro yelled, then switched to Italian, hurling his helmet aside as I stumbled over to them. Then, as if words failed him, he collapsed onto the rocks and turned his face skyward, sending a plea to God to save his brother.

I dropped beside Constantine, opposite Enzo.

“Nothing’s working. He’s unresponsive,” Enzo whispered, his voice raw as he let me take over. He fell back onto his heels, hands pressed against his thighs. “No pulse. The vest took the round, but he was under too long before I could get to him.”

Constantine’s skin was too cold. His lips were turning blue.

I pressed two fingers to the side of his neck, searching, praying, but⁠—

Nothing.

No pulse, just as Enzo had said.

I went straight to chest compressions, becoming a nurse, not a woman in love. Because if I let the emotions take over, I’d lose him.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Colin beside me, Lennon at his side.

“Dad, please, don’t die,” Colin choked out.

I counted out loud, my arms burning as I pushed hard into his chest, forcing blood to keep moving, forcing air into his lungs.

Flashes of our time together—from this weekend to seventeen years ago—rushed to my mind. A memory for every compression.

“Dad, please, I—I love you, you can’t leave us.” Colin’s confession of his love obliterated what was left of my control.

A sob ripped through me, my tears spilling onto Constantine’s chest. “I love you,” I whispered as well. “Stay with us. We need you.”

No response.

Just . . . nothing.

I barely noticed Izzy there now, too, as wet as I was. “Don’t you dare die on us.”

“You’ve got to save him,” Enzo demanded.

I focused on Constantine. On keeping him here.

Colin kept crying. Kept screaming and begging. “God, please save my father. If you do, I promise I’ll be good. Forever. You have my word. Please, just let my dad live.”

I pushed harder. I refused to stop.

Then, an idea hit me. One that wasn’t of this world.

Bianca’s note. It brought this man back into our lives, and I needed her words to bring him back to us now.

Through my mess of tears, I recited as much of the scripture his sister had written as I could remember, my voice catching on every other word.

Izzy met my gaze, her expression shifting. She began repeating everything I said.

Tears flooded my face, but I didn’t stop.

“He’s gone,” someone said. A voice I didn’t recognize. “He’s dead. You have to let him go.”