He got the door open.

He got me out of that car and up through the black water, and when every instinct in my body was screaming to break the surface and gulp air, his hand closed hard on my shoulder and held me under a moment longer, and I understood, without a word, that surfacing where we could be seen would undo everything.

We came up in the dark under the rotting timbers of an old pier, out of sight of the bank.

“Your legs,” I finally got out, staring at him.