[i]Yes,[/i] she ached to say. [i]Yes, give this back to me, I want to learn to swim, I want to go swimming with Safie, I want to be on this warm lake forever and ever. We deserve—[/i]

She cut herself off. Stopped again. Tilted her head at her little self. The moon reflecting off the ink-water gave everything an ethereal sheen, and it all felt so unreal already. But still...[i]we?[/i]

Did it matter? She wanted to jump into the water. She wanted Safie to be there, and catch her, and laugh. But Safie—her heart hurt. She didn't want to say it, didn't want to think it—

Safie wasn't there. Safie was dead.

The corner of her lip curled up the echo of a [i]snarl.[/i] [b][color=FFE63D]Enough,[/color][/b] she said, more forceful than she'd meant to be. 

Exhaling heavily—though she didn't know if she needed to—she stared out at the phantoms of Deelie and Safie as they touched the buoy and began to race back. She heard them laughing all the way from the boat. Ache. Ache. She wanted this so badly.

Then quiet, calm, [color=FFE63D]Enough.[/color]

[color=FFE63D]You didn't answer my second question.[/color]

The faintest note of [i]pleading[/i] entered her voice as she looked back at herself. She couldn't bear to look at the scene in front of her any longer. [color=FFE63D]Please. Who are you? Who—who are—[i]who are we?[/i][/color]