A small, stubborn shift, the size of a heartbeat.

He was still alive.

He was still in there, fighting alongside me.

And that one small movement did what nothing else in the universe could have done: it made me breathe again, and count the breaths, and force my eyes open against the wind, one more time, and then one more time after that.

I was not waiting to be rescued.

I did not believe anyone was coming.