“Your dad.” The doctor corrected herself and continued. “He was out on the water for eighteen hours or more without protection, which under normal circumstances would be bad enough, but this is much more dangerous.”

“Why?” Hallie stepped forward. “You can’t die of starvation and dehydration in that time. You can’t . . . can you?”

“He drank seawater. Maybe a gallon or more of seawater.”

“What?” Colleen asked.

The doctor nodded, her lips closed in a tight line. “He must have become confused. He headed out to open sea without water or food. When he ran out of gas, it appears he must have filled an empty water bottle over and over again with seawater. It happens. When people become disoriented and confused, they believe the water will help. Then the sunburn and hyperthermia disorientation make it worse.”

“Why would he do that?” Shane’s voice didn’t sound like his. “You’re telling me that if he hadn’t drunk the seawater he might be okay?”

“I can’t say that for sure, but we would probably be able to reverse the damage. As it stands, the salinity shut down his kidneys. His organs are failing; one by one they are failing.”

“Stop them from failing.” Hallie’s statement seemed so logical, so absolute. Just stop the failing.

“We are trying.” Dr. Matthews touched the tented blanket over Gavin’s toes. “We are doing everything we can, but you need to be prepared. We can start him on dialysis, but not if his heart muscle has been damaged. We are going to get an EKG immediately. His breathing is erratic and his blood pressure is high.” She paused.

“I don’t get it.” Hallie walked to the head of the bed, placed her hand on her dad’s sunburned forehead, on the raging red skin that had become swollen.

“Seawater has almost four times more salt than our body’s fluid. When there is a high concentration of salt in the blood, the salt is transferred by osmosis to the cells. The body tries to excrete the water through the kidneys, and then this dehydrates the body even more. When you drink saltwater you are actually doing more damage than not having any water at all. Your organs don’t receive the oxygen they need, and that is where we are now. We’re giving him fluids.” She pointed at the bag hanging off a silver pole at his side, the tube winding its way through the beeping machine and then into a vein in the crook of his elbow. “But it’s . . .”

“Too late,” Shane interjected.

Hallie kissed her dad’s forehead and then again looked at all of them. “I don’t need a lesson on salinity or hyper-whatever disorientation. I meant I don’t understand why he went out on the river in the middle of the night and drank gallons of seawater.”