She was underwater, in the shadows. Was it there, was it not?I stepped back, a veil in front of my eyes. The water was still and so was she. I dove in with so little breath. In truth I knew I was too late for death. I had one chance. I grasped her arm and floated upwards, wanting to stay below in the warm forgiving waters. “What have you done?” I screamed to the stars. Then over to the shallow edge. She was face down, smaller and more vulnerable than in life. Her curls wet around her ears and neck, her dear profile at peace at last. A finger in her throat sounded a click, her body still and blue. Is this what death looks like? My love was supposed to protect her. It didn’t. My love was supposed to heal her. It didn’t. You had said don’t leave me and I begged you not to leave me. We did.