“You pushed her with both hands.”
The voice came from behind her.
Daniel.
I had never heard him sound like that.
Not loud.
That would have been easier.
His voice shook.
Vanessa turned.
“Daniel.”
He stepped closer.
His face was pale.
“You pushed her.”
“I was joking.”
“She told everyone yesterday she still couldn't move that arm.”
“She’s being dramatic.”
Daniel stared at her.
Then looked at me.
At my wet dress.
My useless arm.
The two guests kneeling around me.
Then back at Vanessa.
“Did you think she could swim out?”
Vanessa’s expression changed.
Only slightly.
“I didn't push her that hard.”
“She went into the pool.”
“The edge is right there.”
“She cannot use one arm.”
“She can kick.”
A stunned silence passed through everyone.
Even Vanessa seemed to hear herself.
She recovered quickly.
“This is my wedding weekend.”
Daniel’s eyes changed.
“Vanessa.”
“Stop making everything about Emily!”
She shouted it.
People flinched.
A resort employee came running with blankets.
Someone had called emergency services.
I watched Daniel.
He looked at the woman he planned to marry the next morning.
And something inside his face closed.
Not anger.
Decision.
He reached into his jacket.
Vanessa saw.
“What are you doing?”
Daniel looked at her once.
Then walked away.
“Daniel?”
He kept walking.
She followed three steps.
“Daniel.”
He lifted the phone.
“Hi.”
His voice became frighteningly calm.
“Yes, this is Daniel Mercer.”
“I need to speak with whoever is handling the Beaumont reservation.”
Vanessa stopped.
I was shaking too hard to understand.
At first.
Then I saw her face.
“No.”
She walked toward him.
“Daniel, no.”
He held up one hand.
Not touching her.
A barrier.