Chapter 8: The Breakwater

"I'm coming with you," I said.

Caleb already had the duffel on his shoulder and one foot on the stairs.

"Abby, you don't have to."

"I carried her off a beach last night. I'm not letting you do this one alone."

I grabbed my jacket from the laundry basket and pulled it on over my damp shirt.

We ran across campus in the dark, past the dorms and the science halls.

We took the long hill down to the lake road.

Caleb's strides ate the sidewalk, and I matched him step for step.

The breakwater was a long gray finger of concrete that stuck out into Lake Superior.

At the very end of it, under one yellow lamp, a small pink shape was curled up against the railing.

Four students stood a little way back with their phones in their hands.

"Please," Hailey was saying, in a high shaking voice. "Please, I can't breathe. I just need Caleb."

I stopped at the edge of the light.

"Caleb's here," I said. "I'm here too. Everybody take a step back."

Nobody moved.

"Please," I said, and I used the voice my father uses on drunk truckers. "Back up. Give her air."

They shuffled back. Two of them lowered their phones. One kept filming.

Caleb dropped his bag and knelt in front of her.

"Hailey. Hey. I'm here."

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