CHAPTER 2 : LEO
Leo had always been an excellent swimmer. He had to be, spending his summers aboard a sailboat, tossed about by the whims of the ocean. His father, a passionate and demanding sailor, never believed in armbands or life jackets. At barely five years old, he had thrown him overboard, leaving him to struggle against the salty water and towering waves. That day, Leo learned an essential lesson: sinking was not an option. So he had flailed his arms, panicked, swallowed mouthfuls of seawater... until his body understood how to float, how to tame the water rather than fight it.
At eight, his mother had enrolled him in swimming lessons. Unlike other hesitant children, Leo had dived in without fear, shattering records, slipping through the water as if he belonged there. He had tasted the adrenaline of competitions, collected medals. Maybe he hadn't always finished first, maybe he had lost at times, but he had never doubted one thing: he could swim.
So why was he drowning?
His first awakening was nothing but a sensation: that of a biting, brutal cold that seeped into his very bones. Then came awareness: he was sinking. Darkness enveloped him, cruel and impenetrable. The water was heavy, opaque, saturated with drifting particles that formed a murky veil between him and the surface. He opened his eyes, but all he saw was deep, terrifying blackness. Not a single glimmer to indicate the way to safety.
His lungs burned, screaming desperately for a forbidden breath of air. Seized by an intense rage to survive, a visceral instinct took hold of him: he had to get back up. Now.
Blindly, he reached out his arms and kicked frantically, swimming towards what he hoped was up. His movements were jerky, desperate, made clumsy by the freezing water numbing his muscles. The effort drained an energy he no longer had. Every passing second emptied him further of his strength. But he had to keep moving, always. He didn't want to imagine what would happen if he gave up.
How had he ended up here? Why was this unbearable cold tearing at his skin? Fragments of memories clashed in his muddled mind. A chaotic kaleidoscope of sounds and sensations. A road. The rain. Emma. Marie. A figure appearing out of nowhere. And then... nothing. The terror he felt for them crushed his heart, but he couldn't let it consume him. If he thought about it now, he'd lose himself completely.
His head spun atrociously. The lack of air was excruciating. His body was becoming heavy, far too heavy. His limbs no longer obeyed him, much to his horror. Leo felt panic surge through him as his pace slowed inexorably. He knew what this meant, he wasn't stupid. If no one came, he wouldn't make it. He was going to die here. Alone. In the icy darkness of an unknown lake, lost in a place where no one would ever think to look for him.
Tears welled up in his eyes, but the water carried them away before they could even exist. Then, just as he was giving in, a noise tore through the silence of the water in a deafening cacophony. A powerful splash, followed by rapid movement. Someone was diving in. A potential savior, or so he desperately hoped.
A blurred, indistinct silhouette cut through the water toward him. His poor vision kept him from identifying his rescuer, but he could make out one thing: it was a broad-shouldered man. A firm hand seized his wrist with unshakable strength. Leo felt his body being violently pulled upward. He had no time to react, no chance to make a single move. He let it happen, incapable of resistance. And why would he resist, anyway? Someone was saving him—it would have been foolish not to accept it.
Every second it took them to surface was pure agony. His lungs were on the verge of imploding, demanding a breath he couldn't give them. His mind drowned in panic and exhaustion. The wait was unbearable.
And then, finally, there was air.
Leo broke the surface with a ragged gasp. Oxygen flooded his lungs in a desperate inhalation. Water streamed down his face, dripping from his soaked hair. He coughed violently, expelling the liquid that still threatened to choke him.
The only thing Leo was certain of at that precise moment was that he was alive. More alive than ever.
The fresh air he could now breathe scraped his burning throat like a rough blade. He choked, coughed, spat, expelling waves of icy water that clung to him like a curse. His muscles, frozen stiff, barely moved, and he struggled immensely to keep his head above water. His arms, heavy as lead, no longer obeyed him.
It was his rescuer who dragged him toward a makeshift boat, using unparalleled strength to haul him aboard. The vessel rocked dangerously under their disordered movements, threatening for a moment to throw them back into the abyss. Leo clung feverishly to the edge, his numb fingers struggling to find a secure grip on the damp, rough wood. At last, after one final effort, he collapsed onto the boat's floor with a dull thud, panting, his body wracked with uncontrollable spasms.
The wind, relentless, slipped through his drenched clothes, biting into his frozen skin with unbearable cruelty. Each gust was a frostbite-laden wound, a silent torture that made him shiver from head to toe. His teeth clattered in an infernal rhythm, and his body convulsed under the relentless cold. The night, ink-black, offered no comfort. Only a few stars timidly pierced the darkness, indifferent to his suffering.
A flickering glow caught his attention. The trembling light of a candle lantern cast shifting shadows over the murky water, revealing the massive silhouette of the man who had just saved his life.
Leo squinted, trying to make out his features despite his blurred vision. Tall. Broad-shouldered. Everything about him exuded raw power. His thick, coarse clothes bore the marks of hard labor, and his large, calloused hands spoke of years of physical work.
It took Leo a moment to realize the man was offering him something. He only truly understood when a heavy fur coat was shoved into his hands. The rough, damp fabric felt almost as cold as his own clothes at first, but he clutched it with silent gratitude, his trembling fingers struggling to grasp its edges.
Desperately clumsy, he pulled the coat over his shoulders. The weight of the fabric nearly crushed him, and the dampness only deepened the cold's bite against his skin. But it was better than nothing. It was a start.
Curled up against himself, Leo clenched the coat tightly, seeking a warmth that wouldn't come. He had escaped drowning, but his body was still fighting for survival.
Finally, he raised his head toward his mysterious savior. His voice was hoarse, broken by exhaustion and cold.
— Who... are you?
The man didn't answer immediately. His dark, piercing gaze lingered on Leo with a troubling intensity, wavering between concern and curiosity. He seemed to be observing him, evaluating him, as if trying to understand how someone could end up in the middle of a lake at night, moments from drowning.
The silence stretched, heavy, broken only by the lapping of water against the boat. The cold continued to gnaw at Leo to the bone, every gust of wind seeping beneath his wet clothes, making him shudder uncontrollably. His short breaths barely lifted his aching chest. But he needed answers.
— Who are you? he repeated, his voice raw from screaming underwater.
This time, his rescuer reacted. A faint smile tugged at his lips, and he inclined his head slightly in greeting before finally speaking.
Leo tensed immediately. The man's voice was deep and gravelly, marked by a thick foreign accent. The syllables were rough, jagged, as if carved from stone. It took him a moment to realize he was speaking English—but not fluently, not smoothly. It was fragmented, almost guttural.
Leo's stomach twisted. This wasn't just a passing tourist.
A chill, sharper than the lake's icy grip, raced down his spine. Where was he? There were no lakes of this size near his parents' home. No vast expanse of water he could have unknowingly driven past. None of this made sense. He parted his lips to ask more questions, but a memory struck him like a thunderclap.
Emma. Marie.
His heart lurched, then pounded violently against his ribs. They had been with him. They had been in the car. And now...?
A raw, undiluted terror coiled in his gut, crushing his thoughts under the weight of a nightmare too real to deny. His trembling fingers clutched at the rough fur of his coat, but found no comfort there.
— Emma...! Marie...! he stammered, each syllable trembling with panic.
He bolted upright, a primal need driving him forward—to see them, to make sure they were safe. His breathing was erratic, broken. He forgot the language barrier entirely, words spilling too fast for his rescuer to follow.
The man frowned, puzzled by his sudden hysteria. But Leo didn't care. He had to make him understand. He had to help him search. With fumbling, desperate hands, he gestured to his chest, mimicking the shape of breasts, then cradled his arms as if rocking a child. Finally, he thrust a trembling finger toward the dark water surrounding them.
The very thought made him go pale. Emma and Marie... in this freezing abyss?
No.
His stomach twisted violently. Without thinking, he lunged toward the edge of the boat. He had to look. He had to know. If he didn't, he would lose his mind.
But before he could move, an iron grip clamped around his arm.
— Let me go! he cried, struggling with the desperation of a drowning man.
The stranger's hold tightened. He was stronger. Unyielding.
Leo thrashed, tried to wrench himself free, but his body—weak, drained—betrayed him. Exhaustion won out. His movements faltered, then failed entirely, and he collapsed into broken sobs.
— Please, he choked out, his voice shattered.
But his savior did not release him. He held him firm, unwavering, anchoring him as Leo's body trembled with ragged, gasping cries. He shut his eyes, suffocating, barely able to draw breath past the painful sobs wracking his chest. He had nothing left. No strength. No air. No hope.
Then, a sharp cry split the night. The man was calling someone.
Leo forced his eyes open, just in time to see another boat approaching. A fishing vessel, its lanterns swaying gently against the dark. Silhouettes moved on board, voices carrying in a language he didn't understand. Then, one of them leaned over the railing, shining a beam of light onto the water's surface.
They were searching. But not fast enough.
Leo stared into the black abyss, frozen. Every second stretched unbearably, a fresh agony with each beat of his racing heart.
— Hurry, he whispered, barely aware of his own voice.
His body was rigid, his face locked in an expression of absolute terror. Tears spilled unchecked down his cheeks, searing hot despite the cold.
He prayed. With everything he had left, he prayed that he alone had suffered the cruel fate of falling into the lake. Because if survival came at the cost of their lives...
Then he would have rather drowned.