Her breath went ragged and then deep.

And somewhere in there she stopped being a frozen frightened animal in a corner and became, again, my Maya — and I would have knelt in those weeds holding her for the rest of my life if the world had let me.

I stood up with her wrapped around me, all knees and elbows and held breath, and I turned toward the fence and safety — and Maya went rigid in my arms and stared past my shoulder at the pool, and whispered, “Daddy, please don’t look at the water.

Please.

Let’s just go.”

Chapter 7 — Nine-One-One