Kayra looked at her trembling daughter, at Cliff, at the rest of her escort and the ship's owner. All of them clinging to the broken wood of the wreckage.
If I hadn't insisted on moving at night, this wouldn't have happened. If I'd waited until morning, let them finish the repairs… they wouldn't be suffering like this.
And my daughter wouldn't be feeling this cold.
Now it's all my fault. Now everyone is going to die.
No one can hold on much longer. We have no way to contact anyone.
Please…
At least let them live.
Just take my life and spare theirs.
Her body was growing weak. The cold was a deep, biting ache that seeped into her bones, a numbness that started in her fingers and toes and crept inward, making every breath feel sharp and shallow. The ocean's chill at night was relentless, sapping warmth and strength with each passing minute.
"I'm sorry… everyone…" Kayra mumbled softly, a faint, resigned smile touching her lips as her eyes began to drift shut.
