She throws herself out first, vanishing into the dark below. I launch after her a heartbeat later.
The car drops nose-first beside us, twisting as it falls several meters before slamming into the river with a brutal crash that sends freezing spray high into the night.
I break the surface and drag in a breath, wiping my eyes quickly as I search for her. For one second there’s nothing but darkness, violent currents, and the roar of the river around me, then I catch sight of her a few feet away just as her body slips beneath the surface, one hand disappearing last.
I dive immediately, cutting through the water toward where she went down. The river hides everything beneath the surface after only a few feet, but eventually I catch sight of her farther down, motionless while her hair spreads weightlessly through the river.
I catch her around the waist and pull her back against me before kicking hard toward the surface. When we break through, her head falls against my shoulder and stays there, completely unconscious.
“Jesus,” I mutter, adjusting my grip to keep her head above the surface.
I turn us toward the riverbank and start swimming back, one arm wrapped around her, while the other drives us forward. She gives a weak cough halfway there, spilling water from her mouth, then goes still again.
By the time my feet hit the muddy bottom nearshore, I’m carrying most of her weight. I drag her the rest of the way out and lift her onto the grass, rolling her carefully onto her side.
Water runs from her lips when I press a hand between her shoulder blades.
“Come on, kitten.” She coughs twice, choking, but her eyes don’t open.
Meanwhile, people are already hurrying down from the road above us, pulled in by the crash and the splash that followed it. Car doors slam somewhere behind them, voices pile over each other in confusion, and footsteps pound across the wet grass until, within minutes, we’re surrounded by wide eyes and nervous energy.
Two men reach us first, both breathing hard from the run.
“You alright, mate?” One asks, looking between me and Sierra with open shock before glancing at the river again. “Was anyone else in the car?”
I remain beside her on one knee, keeping a steady hand on her shoulder while rough breathing tears deliberately from my chest.
“She needs an ambulance,” I say hoarsely, brushing the wet hair back from her face. “Please call one.”
A woman behind them already has her phone pressed to her ear, pacing as she speaks to emergency services.
One of the men watches the black current consume the last visible piece of the car.
“Anyone else still in there?”
I follow his eyes briefly, my chest still rising and falling hard before I shake my head.
“No. Just us.”
Blue lights wash over the road a few minutes later, cutting through the night in sharp flashes as the first ambulance pulls up beside the growing line of stopped cars. A police car follows close behind, tires crunching over gravel while paramedics jump out, already moving.
Two of them rush straight to Sierra. They kneel beside her, checking her pulse, speaking to each other in clipped voices while opening the soaked robe enough to place monitors against her skin before covering her again.
One of them asks how long she was unconscious, but I let the question hang like I’m struggling to hear it.
“Only a minute or two,” I say, dragging air into my lungs. “I got to her as fast as I could.”
They lift her onto a stretcher with practiced speed. She stirs only slightly, coughing once, eyes still closed. Good.
A police officer approaches me next, notebook already in hand.
“Sir, can you tell me what happened tonight?”
I look toward the ambulance first and then down at the ground, letting shame and shock settle over my face before I answer.
“She’s my sister-in-law,” I explain quietly. “My brother asked me to stay with her tonight because she hasn’t been herself lately.”
The officer’s expression shifts at once.
