Gilbert and Diana rode as fast as they could. They rode through the woods and the fields, desperately spurring on their horse.

An urgency had siezed hold of the two friends and as their horse raced, so did their hearts and minds. What would become of Anne? What would happen to her? Would everything really be well in the end?

As soon as they reached the fork in the road, Gilbert dismounted. He looked up at his dark-haired companion, his face painted with emotions. The sun had almost gone down now, the sky was scarlet and the evening was getting cold. The birds sung their last songs, singing goodnight and farewell as they took off into the darkening blood red sky. The air smelt of rain and Gilbert could feel a storm brewing.

"Good luck with your father." Gilbert said.

Diana smiled appreciatively. She wished Gilbert could be by her side, helping her explain everything to her father. But he had to find Anne. She also wished she could aid him with the search. But they had to go alone for now.

"Here we are again. You're facing your parents and my road takes me to Anne." Gilbert commented.

"It is fate. We all have our journey in life, I feel mine is forever tied to my parents." Diana sighed.

"It isn't forever. You are more than your family." Said Gilbert softly. He knew what it felt like to be tied to somebody.

"Maybe your road always leads to Anne for a reason." Diana looked at Gilbert, her pale face seeming older in that moment.

Gilbert felt his stomach clench. What did she mean? Anne was special, he cared a lot about her. But nothing was there - Anne had only just forgiven him for their arguments. He doubted she'd ever forgive him for their fateful meeting. Did Diana see something he did not?

"Well, I will come to you when I find Anne and get the truth of all this." Gilbert said, with determination.

"Good luck, my friend." Diana smiled sincerely.

She rode away into the setting sun. Gilbert hoped she'd be careful and reach home safely. He hadn't even considered his own safety at this point in the plan. He did not care much for it, although he wondered how he would get Anne home safely when he found her. He cared about that a lot.

Gilbert walked briskly down the path through the pretty woods. They were dark at this time of day, but the trees smelt sweet of blossom and the warm glow of the sun made it delightful. He knew Anne would appreciate such a pleasant place. He made his way down the track through the last bracken and trees. He was lucky to know this area well, from many village picnics. It was the edge of the Barry estate, next to the lake.

When Gilbert was a boy he would get permission to go out fishing on the lake during the summer. Gil and his friends used to borrow Mr Barry's small boat but tired of it eventually as it began to deteriorate and would take on water every time they went out. They built their own, with help from their fathers. They kept it in a shelter by the tree line. He passed it as he moved through the trees.

Gilbert came out of the woods and saw the lake ahead of him. It was beautiful at this time of day, burned crimson and rippling with nameless shapes. He walked along the lakeside, his tired brown eyes searching his bearings for any sign of the red-head. It was oddly quiet around the lake, as though it drained up noise.

Gilbert turned a bend and the sourounding trees cleared. Suddenly he heard a scream. His blood ran cold. He set off in a sprint, running as fast as he could towards the dreaded sound. Gilbert heard it echoing from the water up by the bridge. Gilbert ran further along the lakeside and saw a flash of red hair almost below the bridge.

Anne.

"Help!" Anne screamed. "Somebody help!"

Gilbert saw her sitting in a small boat that was bobbing slightly. He realised the boag was sinking. His heart stopped a beat. She was in the centre of the lake, too far to swim, too far to run to the bridge before the boat capsized. She wouldn't make it.

Gilbert searched his mind desperately for a solution. The boat. The fishing boat he built as a child!

It was the only chance.

Gilbert raced back to the trees, and straight to the shelter. He pulled away overgrown branches and hoped the boat would be in good condition still. He dragged the boat out. It was in one piece! There were the oars too - luck was with him.

The boat was heavy, but well made. Gilbert gathered all of his strength and dragged the boat out to the water. He lagged, his tired muscles aching. Anne's screams rang out across the water. Gilbert took on a surge of energy and pushed the boat into the lake. He ran into the muddy reeds, his boots soaking to the socks. Gilbert jumped into the wooden boat and took up the oars, rowing as hard as he could.

...

As soon as Anne realised she was all alone, she knew she had to figure something out quick. The main road was far away, but there were several small roads and tracks leading past the lake, possibly leading a saviour within earshot. Anne spotted a bridge up ahead. The water was flowing softly, moving the sinking boat towards the arch. If she was careful she could reach up and grab hold of the supports below the bridge and hang on. Not for long, but possibly long enough for help to arrive.

Anne hated that she was relying on the slim chance somebody might pass by. She wished she had thought about this possibility when she came onto the lake. She was too weak from her injury to hang on for long, it would be a slim window of time. The chance of somebody coming to help her were little to none.

Anne felt tears in her eyes. She swallowed hard. She dried her eyes and took some deep breaths. Crying wouldn't help. She had to be strong. She had to do this, it could be her only shot. Anne lifted the bundle of rocks wrapped in her dress and hefted it out of the small, leaking boat. It was heavier now that she was more exhausted. It spashed into the cold water, sinking down under the surface. Anne breathed a sigh. She wished she was safe at home.

Nowhere was safe with Joseph on the loose, she reminded herself. This wasn't over - she needed to survive, to keep her family safe, to protect her friends. She was one step closer to doing this now that her condemning dress was sinking to the bottom of the lake. But if she didn't make it to the bridge she'd be joining her dress soon enough at the floor of the enormous lake.

Anne wedged her fingers under a loose board at the bottom of the boat. She pulled as hard as she could until it snapped off. The cold water came in faster, soaking her skirts but now she had an oar. Anne paddled quickly, long hard strokes in the sunset-coloured water. She was close. The water was rising so fast, the boat was lowering into the water. She felt her heart leaping out of her chest, panic making her hands shake violently.

Anne reached out. The water was carrying the boat closer and closer to the arching bridge. There were supporting beams latticing across the bottom of the structure. They looked wet, but strong. If she could just reach she might have a chance. But the boat might sink before she reached the bridge.

Closer, closer.

"Please. Please. Please." Anne breathed.

The water reached her waist, the boat groaned and capsized. Anne screamed and pushed herself up using all her might, grabbing hold of the supports under the bridge. They were damp. Her shaking hands slipped and she fell.

"No!" Anne cried.

Her hands caught on the slots and she dug her fingers in. Gasping, she hauled herself up and wrapped her arm around the wet beam. There was algea on the wood, which made it slimy and hard to grip. Anne glanced back through her long, tangled red hair to see her boat disappearing under the water.

The sun was dipping low and it was getting darker. The chances of being spotted in the dark were so slim, Anne began screaming for help again. She didn't know how long she could hold this up. Her arms were straining, her wound burning with pain. She could feel the stitches pulling and she gasped in pain. Her moans were broken and torn.

"Help!" She screamed, her eyes burning with tears. Tears of exhaustion, fear, pain.

Her arms were trembling. She closed her eyes and tried to breath through her ragged sobs. She thought of Marilla and Mathew and how terribly worried they were before. She was going to put them through it all again if nobody came. She thought of Diana and Gilbert, desperately trying to help her. She just pushed them both away for fear of Joseph hurting them.

But there was no way that he could tie her to the heist anymore, not now her dress was gone along with the evidence she found on the wagon wreckage. If she got out of this she would be able to report him and all of his crimes. She'd be free.

But the hope of somebody coming to help Anne were disappearing rapidly. Anne's arms were shaking and she gasped, desperately clinging on. The beam was so wet, the exhaustion setting in and the pain in her side became unavoidable. Anne's arms loosened and she slipped further down, her feet splashing into the water and her wet skirts dragging her down. She was clinging on by her fingertips.

"Somebody, please." Anne's voice came out hoarse and deathly quiet.

Nobody was there.

"Anne!" Gilbert's voice rang out across the lake's cold surface.

Anne's heart was beating loud in her ears. She was imagining it. She hadn't heard Gilbert. She barely had the energy to sob anymore, her body heaving with breathless gasps. Her fingers slid down, the water dragging on her dress, the cold water enveloping her body to her waist.

"No." Anne breathed, before her hands slipped and she crashed into the icy depths of the lake.

...

The water was black beneath the surface. The cold was so painful it felt like needles all over Anne's body. The shock didn't come slowly - it hit her like an anvil, her throat filling with water and the pressure building on her ears until she couldn't think. Her dress dragged her down. Anne wanted to kick and push up with her arms but she had never swum before and her body wasn't listening to her brain.

Anne's limbs were too exhausted to fight. Her brain was telling them to move, but the shock was overriding it. Anne's hair clouded in the water like a burning flame, all the while Anne's flame was burning out. The breath had left her lungs, her head ached and pounded.

Anne didn't feel angry anymore. She just felt regret. She knew so much now that she didn't know then. She wished she could have done everything differently.

...

Gilbert was on the lake moments after Anne's boat capsized. He was rowing when he saw Anne's small figure clinging to the bottom of the bridge arching over Barry Lake. Her red hair stood out amongst the dark water and her cries echoed across the cold water.

"Help!" She screamed.

Gilbert's heart thundered loud in his chest, deafening his ears. It was beating so fast he could barely breathe. His tired arms burned as he rowed, pushing his boat further. He was almost there. He could hear Anne whimpering and see her arms shaking as she struggled to hold on.

Gilbert had not prayed since before his father passed on, but he prayed then. Please let her hold on long enough for me to reach her. Please give me the speed to reach her in time.

"Somebody, please." Anne's weak voice ghosted across the water.

"Anne!" Gilbert shouted.

He wanted her to know that somebody was here, that she was going to be okay. He wanted her to hold on for a few more moments, to hang on so he could help her. He wanted her to know that she wasn't alone.

But she let go and disappeared under the water.

Gilbert screamed.

"Anne!" He searched the water for her to come up, but she didn't.

His boat hit the bridge beams and he wrapped the rope around, before diving head first into the water. He didn't give a thought to anything at that moment, but saving Anne. The water was shockingly cold but he pushed on.

The lake was dark but Anne's blazing hair glimmered in the deep. He kicked further down, as she was dragged deeper. She was like a ghost, pale and lifeless. Her eyes were closed.

Anne. Anne. Anne. Gilbert's mind thundered. His heart hammered. His body worked harder and harder, his muscles aching. He was close. He reached out.

Gilbert's hand closed around Anne's wrist and he instantly gripped tightly and kicked upwards. He seized her other wrist and pulled, his legs furiously kicking. He was running out of air and he dreaded to think what he'd find when he reached the surface. Anne had been under longer than him.

Gilbert felt the pressure build as his lungs screamed and his legs almost gave out. It wasn't far. He had to make it. Come on. Gilbert thought.

A surge of oxygen hit him as he broke through the surface of the lake. Gilbert gasped and spat out water, heaving raggedly and blinking through his soaking-wet hair. He pushed on, swimming towards his boat, dragging Anne's body.

Gilbert heaved Anne into the boat and climbed in after, his entire body shaking and drenched. Water pooled at the boat, dripping off his clothes. He pushed his hair out of his face and bent over Anne's limp body, desperation pounding in his veins.

Please. Please.

I can't lose her.

Gilbert lifted Anne's face, her skin pale and eyes closed. Her lips were blue and her red hair dark and tangled. She was cold to touch. Gilbert leant down to her chest and pressed his ear against her wet dress, listening hard.

There, deep down, a soft slow beat. Too slow. Dangerously slow. She was slipping.

When Gilbert had worked on the docks he had seen a man pulled from the sea, drowned and on the brink of death. Another sailor pulled him back from the edge by pressing his hands on his chest and breathing air into his mouth. Gilbert knew it jump-started his heart. Gilbert had seen this happen often and the routine of it had stuck in his head.

He had to save her.

Gilbert tilted up her head and took a deep breath. He breathed into her mouth and repeated. He did this three times, before linking his hands together and pressing down on her chest. He pressed hard, counting while muttering to himself.

"One, two, three -- please let this work -- four -- please -- five -- Anne, come on," Gilbert prayed he knew what he was doing. "Come on, girl. Six -- please, Anne."

Gilbert got to around twenty before he started to think he was doing it wrong, or that Anne was too far gone. That was when she coughed and spluttered. He instantly sat back in shock, watching as she heaved. Gilbert quickly rolled her onto her side and Anne coughed up a lungful of water into the boat. Her body was trembling as she panted and gasped in air.

Gilbert felt an enormous wave of relief wash over him. Anne was alive. Anne was alright. He did it.