Zane Jennings leaned against the nearby railing, having been watching for a while. He wasn't watching her save the man; he was watching her.
He didn't have a rope, though.
Someone offered kite string from their bag, but he saw her shake her head.
He smiled.
She turned to the hem of her white dress, trying twice to tear it with her hands. The dress was high-quality cotton, and she didn't have the strength.
The man lay on the ground, groaning in pain.
Zane Jennings had just lit a cigarette and hadn't finished it. He descended the few steps, a rare smile playing on his lips as he smoked and made his way into the crowd.
She was half-squatting on the ground, comforting the man. "Hang in there. It'll be over in a moment."
The man gritted his teeth, a sheen of cold sweat covering his face despite the late autumn chill.
Zane Jennings walked over and squatted in front of Erin Lowell. He stared at her impassive face for a moment, then asked casually, "Want some help?"
