My husband drove the car into the river with my brother and me trapped inside, but when the water had already reached my neck, the man who had been “paralyzed” for 15 years stood up from his wheelchair, k:ick:ed the door open, and whispered, “Play d:ea:d. He’s watching.” I didn’t ask any questions… until I saw who was waiting for my husband on the shore.

“Why?”

“Proof.”

“For Victor?”

“Probably.”

I stared at the river.

Even our deaths were supposed to be documented.

Tobias continued.

“If we surfaced too quickly, they would have seen.”

“So you made us disappear beneath the pier.”

“Yes.”

I looked at him.

“You saved my life.”

He shrugged.

“You saved mine first.”

“When?”

“After the crash.”

I frowned.

“You were nineteen.”

“You came to the hospital every day.”

“You learned how to transfer me from the bed.”

“You fought insurance.”

“You redesigned your college schedule.”

“You gave up things I never knew about until later.”

He looked at me.

“You kept me alive when I didn’t care if I lived.”

My throat tightened.

“So we’re even?”

“No.”

He smiled.

“Family doesn’t work like that.”

I laughed.

For once, he was right.

Before we left, I walked to the edge of the water.

I looked down.

The river reflected the sky.