Mira's tears dripped from her chin, splashing onto the rock inches from my face—warm, salty drops that landed on my cheek.
I climbed higher—pretending every inch cost me blood, breath, and will—until my hand was within reach.
Mira's fingers brushed mine—shaking violently.
"Yeah… just give me your hand… we've got you… We've got you, Dexter… come on—come on—!"
I reached up—fingertips touching hers—then deliberately pulled back, letting my "grip" slip a fraction, letting my body sag as though my strength was failing.
"It's too dangerous, Mira…" I rasped, voice thick with fake pain and exhaustion. "If we're not careful… I might pull you both down… I—I can't risk that… not you… not Bill… I'd rather fall than take you with me…"
Mira shook her head frantically—tears flying.
"No—no—no—just give us your hand—there are two of us—pulling you is not difficult—please, Dexter—please trust us—please let us save you!"
