The next day went by uneventful.

Walking through the halls of school, my eyes darted around, looking for any sign of the popular trio. Their absence was eerie, like the calm before a storm. Each footstep echoed against the cold linoleum; each locker slamming shut like a gunshot in my ears. My heart raced with every turn, expecting to run into their mocking smiles at any moment.

Aaron and I had exchanged a few glances throughout the day, but our conversations were stolen between classes, too brief to be meaningful. His eyes searched mine, and I knew he could feel the weight of my parents' presence pressing down on me. Yet, he said nothing, allowing me the space I needed to breathe.

The school bell rang, signaling the end of the day. My heart skipped a beat, the anticipation of what was to come weighing heavily. I gathered my books, my eyes scanning the empty hallways for any sign of the popular trio. The silence was almost deafening, a stark contrast to the usual cacophony of slammed lockers and chattering students.

As I stepped into the sunlit parking lot, I spotted Aaron leaning against his car, his paint-splattered hoodie pulled up over his head. He waved when he saw me, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of relief wash over me. He looked up from his sketchbook, his eyes meeting mine, and for a moment, it was like the rest of the world disappeared.

"Hey," he said, his voice low and comforting. "Ready for this?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," I replied, trying to sound more confident than I felt. The thought of facing my fears at the community pool was terrifying, but the promise I made to Aaron was like a lifeline, keeping me from sinking into the depths of my anxiety.

"Great," Aaron said with a nod, tucking his sketchbook into his backpack. "Let's go."

The ride to the community pool was quiet, the tension in the car thick enough to cut with a knife. The only sound was the low hum of the engine and the occasional crackle of the radio. I gripped the door handle, my knuckles white as we pulled into the parking lot. The sight of the large, blue building made my stomach twist into knots.

Aaron glanced over at me, his eyes full of understanding. "You can do this," he said, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder.

The words echoed in my mind as we approached the pool's entrance. The smell of chlorine grew stronger with each step, and I could feel the fear trying to crawl back up my throat. "Thanks," I murmured, taking a deep breath.

"Remember, I'm right here," Aaron said, giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze before we stepped inside the room.

The community pool was buzzing with the sound of children's laughter and the splash of water. The echo of their happiness bounced off the walls, making the room feel both alive and daunting. My eyes darted to the deep end, where a lifeguard blew his whistle, signaling for a group of young swimmers to take a break. My stomach tightened, and my palms grew slick with sweat.

"Cora," Aaron said, his voice cutting through the din, "let's start with the shallow end."

I nodded, my legs feeling like jelly as we approached the edge of the pool. The water looked so inviting, yet so terrifying. The coolness of the concrete was a stark contrast to the warmth of the water, which seemed to call out to me, whispering sweet nothings of a watery embrace.

I just sit by the edge, my feet dangling over the water's surface. The ripples tickled my toes, sending shivers up my spine. Aaron sat down beside me, his presence grounding me in a way that I hadn't felt in years. He didn't push me, didn't rush me. He just sat there, a silent sentinel offering comfort.

The world outside the pool was a blur of color and sound, but here, by the water's edge, it was just us. The smell of chlorine grew stronger, mingling with the faint scent of sunscreen and wet towels. The laughter of children playing in the distance was a stark contrast to the silence between us.

Aaron leaned closer, his arm brushing against mine. "You don't have to do this if you're not ready," he said softly. His eyes held a gentle concern, a stark reminder that he knew my fears better than anyone else.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart. "I know," I whispered. "But I want to." It was true. I wanted to conquer my fear, to dive into the deep end without a second thought. But the memory of that day on the beach lingered like a shadow, cold and clinging.

The edge of the pool was a precipice, a boundary between the known and the unknown. The water rippled gently, a siren's call to the depths below. I glanced at Aaron, his eyes filled with a mix of hope and concern. He knew what this meant to me, knew the battle raging within my mind.

"C'mon, Cora," Aaron said, his voice a soft whisper. "Let's move to the deep end. We can talk there, it's quieter."

I looked at him, my heart racing. The deep end. The very thought of it sent shivers down my spine. But his eyes held a gentle coaxing, a promise of safety. With a deep breath, I nodded, allowing him to lead the way. We made our way around the pool, the laughter of children and the splashing of water growing fainter with each step. The deep end was the adult's section, a place where the water was still and the air was thick with the scent of chlorine.

We sat on the edge of the pool, our feet dangling in the water. The coolness of the water kissed my ankles, sending a shiver up my legs. I watched the water move, the way the light danced on the surface, creating a mirage of rippling diamonds. Aaron sat beside me, his arm touching mine, offering warmth and support.

"So, how was your day?" he asked, his voice calm and steady. He knew I needed the distraction, and I appreciated the effort.

I shrugged, my eyes still glued to the water's surface. "Same old," I replied, my voice quieter than the gentle lapping of the pool water against the concrete.

Aaron leaned closer, his gaze searching my face.

"You know, you don't have to tell me everything," he said, his voice as gentle as the ripples of the water. "But I'm here if you want to talk."

I took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "It's just... complicated," I murmured, finally tearing my gaze away from the water to meet his. "Between school, my sisters, and...everything else."

Aaron nodded, his eyes never leaving mine. "I know it's tough," he said, his voice understanding. "But you're stronger than you think."

I swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way my heart pounded in my chest. "Thanks," I murmured, my eyes drifting back to the water. It was strange, the way the light played with the surface, creating an ever-changing dance of shadows and reflections. It was mesmerizing, almost hypnotic.

"How was your day?" I asked, eager to shift the focus away from my own troubles. Aaron's eyes lit up at the question, and I knew he had something to share.

"It was...different," he said, his voice trailing off. "I had an interesting conversation with Mr. Jenkins about my college application portfolio."

A college portfolio? The words hung in the air like an unseen fog. I'm confused since he's only a sophomore like me. Most kids our age was still trying to figure out what they wanted to do with their lives, let alone plan for college. But Aaron had always been ahead of the curve, a prodigy in his own right.

"What do you mean?" I asked, my voice tinged with curiosity.

"He said he thinks I should start thinking about what I want to do after high school," Aaron replied, his eyes clouding with doubt. "College, internships, the whole shebang."

I couldn't help but feel a twinge of inadequacy. While Aaron was already mapping out his future, I was barely managing to keep my head above water with school and my secret life. "Wow," I said, trying to keep my voice even. "That's... intense."

Aaron shrugged, his eyes following the dance of light on the water. "I know it's early, but he thinks my art could get me into some pretty amazing programs. Or some kind of Soccer scholarship."

The weight of his words sank in, and I couldn't help but feel a little lost. We were the same age, but his path was already paved with gold, while I was still wandering in the fog of uncertainty. It wasn't jealousy, exactly. It was more like looking at a map and realizing you've been walking in circles.

But Aaron, with his paint-stained fingers and soccer cleats, had a clear destination. It was like watching someone solve a Rubik's Cube in seconds while I was still peeling off the stickers to make the colors match. His talents were a beacon, guiding him through the murky waters of high school and into the bright horizon of higher education and beyond.

And yet, as we sat there, the water gently kissing our skin, I realized that maybe our paths weren't so different after all. We both had fears to face, dreams to chase, and secrets to keep.

"You know," I began, my voice shaky, "I've been thinking about college too."

Aaron looked at me, his eyes full of curiosity. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," I said, my voice stronger now. "I want to go to college, make something of myself. Maybe even move away from here." The words were a whisper at first, but grew louder as I spoke them aloud. The idea of leaving the confines of my small town, of the house with the echoes of my past, filled me with a sense of excitement and terror.

Aaron's eyes lit up, a smile spreading across his face. "That's amazing, Cora. What do you want to study?"

"Music," I replied, the word leaving my lips with a sense of liberation. "I want to perform, to write, to make music that people love like you love to paint."

Aaron's smile grew, his eyes lighting up with a warmth that made me feel seen. "That's so cool," he said, his voice filled with genuine excitement. "You've got a real talent, you know. I've always thought so."

"Thanks," I said, feeling my cheeks heat up. "But it's just a dream."

Aaron's smile grew more earnest. "Dreams are the start of everything," he said, his eyes searching my face. "And who's to say we can't make it a reality?"

The words hung in the air between us, a bridge of possibility stretching out over the rippling water. My heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, the fear of the water faded into the background. "What do you mean?"

Aaron turned to me, his eyes filled with a determination I hadn't seen before. "I mean," he said, "that I'd love to go to college with you. We could be roommates, maybe even go to the same school. Imagine that."

My heart skipped a beat. The thought of sharing this journey with him was both thrilling and terrifying. "But what if we don't get into the same school?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Aaron's grin didn't waver. "Then we'll make it work," he said, his voice filled with conviction. "We're going to conquer our fears together, remember?"

The thought of Aaron being by my side, sharing in the excitement and terror of college, was almost too much to handle. "But what if I don't get accepted anywhere?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Aaron looked at me, his eyes filled with a fierce determination. "Don't say that," he said, his voice firm. "You're going to get accepted everywhere. You're smart, talented, and you have a voice of gold."

I couldn't help but smile at his confidence in me. It was like he could see a future that I could only dream of. "Thanks," I murmured, looking back at the water.

Just as I was about to dip my toes in, the sound of laughter echoed through the hallway leading to the pool. My heart sank as the figures of Alex Fisher, Jessica Maggie, and Sahara Dune emerged, their eyes scanning the area for their next target.

Sahara spotted us first, her smirk widening as she approached with her usual swagger. "Well, if it isn't our little fish out of water," she sneered, pointing at me. "What are you doing here, Harlow? Trying to drown your sorrows in the deep end?"

Jessica and Alex flanked her, their laughter cold and biting. "We know you're not so tough without your friends to hide behind," Alex chimed in, his eyes gleaming with malice.

My heart raced, and the coolness of the water beneath me suddenly felt like ice. Aaron's hand found mine, his grip firm and reassuring. "Just ignore them," he murmured, his voice barely audible over the sound of the pool.

But it was too late. Sahara had already reached us, her eyes narrowing as she took in our intertwined fingers. "Looks like someone's been hiding more than just their face," she said, her smile cruel.

The air grew colder, and the chlorine scent seemed to thicken. Aaron squeezed my hand, and I took a deep breath. "It's okay," he murmured. "They're not worth it."

But as Sahara's eyes lingered on our joined hands, the fear inside me grew. What if they found out about my fear? What if they used it against me? The bullies had always had a knack for sniffing out my insecurities and exploiting them.

"What's going on here?" Jessica said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "A little hand-holding action before the big swim?"

Their laughter was like nails on a chalkboard, setting my teeth on edge. I felt Aaron's grip tighten, a silent promise of protection. But I knew I couldn't hide behind him forever.

"Why don't you go back to your own pool?" I spat, trying to sound braver than I felt.

Sahara's smirk grew. "This is a public pool, Harlow," she said, "But maybe we should make it a private show." She looked at Aaron, her gaze lingering. "You know, so your little secret doesn't get out."

Aaron's jaw clenched, but he didn't say anything. He knew the drill. Bullies like Sahara thrived on fear and giving her a reaction was exactly what she wanted. But I couldn't let her win. Not today. I stood up, my heart racing, and faced her.

"What's the matter, Sahara?" I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "Jealous that you can't swim without armbands?"

Their laughter grew louder, and a few heads turned our way. I felt a flash of anger, but I knew better than to let it show. Aaron stood up beside me, his posture protective, but his face remained calm. "Come on, Cora," he said, his voice low. "Let's go."

But it was too late. Sahara stepped in front of me, her smirk turning into a full-blown smile. "Oh, are we leaving so soon?" she asked, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "I was just getting started."

The heat of Aaron's body was at my back, a silent support as I stared her down. "What do you want, Sahara?" I managed to say, my voice as cold as the water below.

Sahara's smile grew, a chilling sight that sent a shiver down my spine. "Just wanted to see if the rumors were true," she said, her voice like a serpent's hiss. "They say you're afraid of water, like some kind of pathetic little mermaid who can't handle her own element."

Her words stung, but I knew better than to let her see it. Instead, I forced a laugh, my voice as cool as the water beneath us. "Rumors are just that," I said, my eyes never leaving hers.

But before I could say another word, she shoved me. My world went from the bright lights of the pool to the dark, cold embrace of the water. I felt myself sinking, the weight of my fear pulling me down. The laughter of the bullies echoed in my ears, taunting me as the water rushed into my nose and mouth.

Aaron's face was a blur through the water, his eyes wide with horror as he struggled against Alex's grip. I tried to fight back to the surface, but my legs wouldn't respond. The water was everywhere, suffocating me, just like my fear had done for so long.

As the darkness closed in, I heard Sahara's taunts fade away, replaced by the sound of my own panicked heartbeat. I'd always wondered if my fear of water was rational, if the ocean really was as terrifying as it had been that one fateful day. Now, as the water filled my lungs, I knew the answer was a resounding yes.

My head collided with the bottom of the pool, the pain momentarily piercing through the cold embrace of the water. For a brief moment, I saw stars, not the twinkling kind from a clear night sky, but the bursts of light that accompanied the jolts of pain. And then, as suddenly as it had come, everything went black.

Third Pov:

Aaron's world had frozen in that moment. Cora's head hit the concrete with a sickening thud, the ripples of the water around her growing still as she sank. Her eyes were closed, her body limp. Panic flooded Aaron's veins like a tidal wave, washing away every thought except the need to save her. He broke free from Alex's grip, the sound of the bully's laughter fading as he dove into the water.

The pool water was a blur of blue and white as Aaron's eyes searched for Cora. He could feel the pressure building in his chest, the need to breathe growing stronger with every second that passed. And then he saw her, a dark shadow against the pale bottom of the pool. He swam faster, his muscles burning with the urgency of his mission.

As he reached her, he felt his heart stop. Cora's eyes were closed, her body as still as the water around them. He could see the marks on her forehead from the impact, and a trail of blood mixed with the chlorine.

He wrapped his arms around her, his need for air making him feel like he was moving through molasses. Aaron had to fight the water's resistance, the weight of his own panic, and the urgency to get her to the surface.

Breaking the surface, Aaron gasped for air, pulling Cora with him. Her head lolled back, and he saw the paleness of her skin, the stark contrast to the normal white glow of her figure.

"Cora! Cora, can you hear me?" he called out, his voice hoarse from the water.

Her eyes remained shut, and she didn't respond. The once warm water now felt like ice around them, and Aaron's chest tightened with fear. He pulled her closer to the edge, his legs kicking hard to keep them both afloat.

In a flash, a life guard sprinted over, a rescue buoy in hand. "What happened?" he shouted, his eyes darting between Aaron and the unconscious Cora. Aaron could only manage a shaky nod before the lifeguard dove into the water.

Together, they pulled Cora out of the water, her body lifeless as a ragdoll. The sound of the lifeguard's whistle pierced the air, and suddenly, the pool was a flurry of activity. Wet footsteps squeaked against the tiles as people rushed over, their faces a mix of horror and concern.

Sahara, Alex, and Jessica had vanished like smoke in the wind. The echo of their laughter was the only proof they had ever been there. The fear that had been a constant presence in the pool now shifted to the lifeguard's urgent voice as he called for help. Aaron hovered over Cora, his eyes never leaving hers, willing her to wake up.

The lifeguard's face was a mask of concentration as he checked her pulse and breathing. "She's okay," he said, his voice filled with relief. "Just unconscious."

Aaron felt the world start to spin again as the tightness in his chest eased slightly. Cora's chest rose and fell in a rhythmic pattern, each breath a testament to her resilience. He reached out, placing a trembling hand on her shoulder. "Cora," he whispered, his voice filled with fear and hope.

Her eyes fluttered open slowly, revealing the same fear that had been haunting her all along. She looked around, the reality of the situation setting in as the sounds of panic and urgency grew louder. "What happened?" she croaked; her voice barely audible over the commotion.

Aaron's eyes searched hers, his own fear fading as he saw the spark of life return to them. "You're okay," he breathed, his voice shaking. "You're okay."

The lifeguard began to explain the situation to the gathering crowd, his voice authoritative yet calm. "We need to get her out of here," he said, gesturing towards the first aid room. "I've called an ambulance."

Cora's eyes found Aaron's, and she could see the worry etched on his face. Her hand reached up to touch the tender spot on her forehead, coming away sticky with blood. The sight of it brought the events back to her in a rush, the cruel laughter of the bullies, the coldness of the water, and the sudden blackness that had claimed her.

"Let's get you out of here," Aaron said, his voice gentle as he helped her to her feet. The world swayed around her, and she leaned heavily on him as they made their way to the first aid room. The lifeguard was talking quickly into a radio, his eyes never leaving Cora's face.

The room was a blur of white and red, the smell of antiseptic stinging her nose. She felt the cold compress being pressed against her forehead, the sting of the alcohol wipe before the sterile pad was applied. Each movement brought a new wave of pain, a reminder of her brush with the water she feared so much.

Cora's eyes searched for Aaron, finding him in the corner of the room, his eyes never leaving her. She could see the worry in them, the fear that she might not be okay. It was strange, she thought, how someone could be so concerned for her well-being when she had been hiding so much from him.

The ambulance arrived with a screech of tires and a flurry of activity. The doors flew open, and two paramedics rushed in, their shoes squeaking against the wet floor. The lights from outside painted the room in a flashing pattern, casting eerie shadows across the stark white walls.

One of them took over from the lifeguard, checking Cora's vitals with a gentle touch. "What happened here?" she asked, her voice calm and professional.

Aaron stepped forward, explaining the incident in a voice that sounded foreign to his own ears. It was as if he was recounting a scene from a movie, not his own life. "They pushed her," he said, his eyes flashing with anger. "They knew she couldn't swim."

The paramedics' expressions grew serious, and one began to ask questions about Cora's medical history, her allergies, and the last time she had eaten. Aaron answered as best he could, his mind racing with thoughts of what could have happened if he hadn't been there. If she had been alone, if the lifeguard had been a moment too late.

The sound of the stretcher's wheels against the tiles was a harsh reminder of the gravity of the situation. Cora was lifted onto it, the plastic making a crinkling noise as it bent under her weight. She looked so small, so fragile, surrounded by the stark white of the first aid room. The blue dress she had worn to the pool was now a sad, wet mess, clinging to her skin.

All Cora could think about was the beach. She had a blue dress on that day too, and the same fear of all the noise around her. The ambulance lights painted the room in alternating shades of red and blue, the sirens a symphony of panic. She felt like she was five again, the world spinning out of control.

Aaron held her hand tightly, his eyes never leaving hers. "You're going to be okay," he said, his voice steady and calm. "I'm right here."

The ambulance's sirens pierced the coming night, the flashing lights painting the neighborhood in a strobe of red and blue. The world outside was a blur of faces and buildings as they sped through the streets. Inside, the sterile white of the ambulance was a stark contrast to the chaos of Cora's thoughts. The EMTs talked in hushed tones, their movements efficient and practiced. She could feel the bumps in the road, each one sending a jolt of pain through her head.

Aaron's hand in hers was the only constant, the only thing that kept her grounded. She could feel his fear, his guilt, his anger. He had been there for her, had tried to protect her from the water that had taken so much from her. And now, she was lying here, a victim of the very thing she had feared. The irony was not lost on her.

In the ambulance, Aaron's thoughts were a whirlwind. He should have been more vigilant, should have seen this coming. He had promised to help her face her fears, not watch her drown in them. The sight of Cora's lifeless body had sent a chill down his spine, a stark reminder of his own mortality. The fear in her eyes as she sank had mirrored his own, and the weight of his failure sat heavy on his shoulders.

The sirens outside pierced the silence, a constant reminder of the urgency of the situation. His mind replayed the events at the pool, searching for any clue he might have missed. Why hadn't he stepped in sooner? Why had he let Sahara's taunts goad him into a false sense of security?

Aaron felt a pang of guilt as he watched the paramedics work around Cora. He knew her fear was real, but he had never anticipated it would come to this. The reality of the situation washed over him like a cold shower. What if she had never woken up? What if he had lost her?

The ambulance ride to the hospital was a blur of lights and sirens, the world outside a muffled cacophony that didn't quite match the deafening silence inside. He kept squeezing her hand, hoping she could feel the reassurance he was trying to give, hoping she knew he wasn't going anywhere.

As they wheeled Cora into the hospital, Aaron felt like he was watching a scene from a movie play out in front of him. The coldness of the metal stretcher, the harsh smell of antiseptic, the bustle of doctors and nurses in blue and white scrubs—it was all so surreal. He hovered just outside the room, unable to tear his eyes away from her, his heart pounding in his chest like a drum.

His mind raced with the what ifs: What if he hadn't been there to pull her out? What if she had never come to the pool with him? What if he had never suggested they go in the first place? The weight of his guilt pressed down on him, each breath a struggle as he tried to reconcile his fears with the reality of the situation.

And then, the door to the hospital room burst open, and in rushed a tornado of worry and love: Cora's parents and younger twin sisters. The room was suddenly too small for everyone's emotions. Her mother's eyes were red and swollen, her father's jaw clenched tight as he took in the scene. The twins looked shocked, their usual smiles nowhere to be seen.

"Cora!" her mother shrieked; her voice hoarse with fear. She rushed to the side of the bed, her hands shaking as she touched her daughter's cold, clammy skin. "What happened?"

Her father, Mr. Harlow, was right behind her, his eyes searching the room for answers. The twins, Bex and Liz, hovered near the doorway, their eyes wide with shock and confusion. The scene was a stark contrast to the warm, welcoming home they had left behind, and Cora felt a pang of regret for bringing this chaos into their lives.

The doctor's voice cut through the panic, his tone calm and reassuring. "Your daughter has had a minor concussion and is experiencing the effects of shock. We'll keep her for another few hours of observation, but she should be fine."

Mrs. Harlow's grip on Cora's hand tightened, her eyes never leaving her daughter's face. "What happened?" she asked again, her voice trembling.

The doctor, a man with kind eyes and a gentle smile, looked up from his clipboard. "It appears she hit her head during a... an incident at the pool," he said, glancing at Aaron, who was still standing in the doorway.

Cora felt the weight of their gazes, the tension thickening the air around her. She took a deep breath, the smell of antiseptic and fear mixing in her nose. "It was an accident," she whispered, not wanting to burden Aaron with telling the truth. "I slipped."

Her mother's eyes searched hers, not quite convinced, but she nodded, her own fears seeming to ease slightly. "Thank goodness you're okay," she said, her voice a mix of relief and sadness.

Mr. Harlow stepped forward, his face a mask of anger and concern. "Who did this?" he demanded, his eyes scanning the room as if searching for the culprits.

The doctor's eyes flickered to Aaron, who took a step back, his heart racing. He didn't know how to explain the situation without revealing Cora's secret. "It was just an accident," he said, his voice shaky. "I was there, trying to help her face her fear of water."

Mrs. Harlow's gaze softened, and she turned to Cora. "You know you don't have to do anything that makes you uncomfortable, sweetie," she said, stroking her hair. "We're just happy you're okay."

The doctor, noticing the tension, cleared his throat. "Cora, can you tell me about your fear of water?" he asked gently, his eyes filled with understanding. "It's important we know everything to help you fully recover."

Cora looked down at her hands, now trembling slightly. "It's just a fear," she mumbled, her voice barely audible above the beeps of the heart monitor. "I don't like it. It's scary."

The doctor nodded thoughtfully. "Thalassophobia," he said, making a note on his clipboard.

Cora's eyes snapped up to meet his. "You know about it?" she asked, panic flickering in her voice.

"It's quite common," he assured her, his voice calm and soothing. "But it can be serious. Can you tell me when it started?"

Cora swallowed hard, her eyes flicking to Aaron before she spoke. "When I was five," she began, her voice shaky. "I almost drowned at the beach."

The doctor nodded; his eyes filled with understanding. "That would explain a lot," he said softly. "It's not uncommon for early traumatic events to cause such intense fears."

Mrs. Harlow's gaze sharpened, looking between her daughter and the doctor. "Is this something she can overcome?" she asked, her voice hopeful yet filled with trepidation.

The doctor's eyes remained on Cora, his expression thoughtful. "Thalassophobia can be managed with the right treatment," he said. "But it's not something that just goes away overnight."

Mr. Harlow's gaze was intense, his grip on the bed rail tight. "How do we help her?" he asked, desperation in his voice.

The doctor looked up from his clipboard, his eyes meeting Mr. Harlow's. "Swimming lessons would be a good start," he said, his voice calm and measured. "It's important for her to face her fear in a controlled environment, with professional guidance."

Cora felt a knot form in her stomach at the mere mention of swimming lessons. The thought of willingly entering the water again made her skin crawl.

"Swimming lessons?" she croaked, her voice barely above a whisper.

The doctor nodded, his expression a mix of sympathy and resolve. "Yes, Cora. It's the best way to face your fear."

Cora felt the walls closing in on her, the coldness of the hospital room mirroring the icy grip of dread in her chest. Swimming lessons? It was like asking her to walk into a shark tank and make friends.

But Aaron's hand in hers was warm, a beacon of hope amidst the fear. He squeezed her hand gently, a silent promise of support. She knew she couldn't hide behind her scales forever; she had to face the water that had haunted her for so long.

Her mother nodded, a steely determination in her eyes.

"We'll find the best instructor," Mr. Harlow said, his voice firm.

The doctor nodded, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "That's the spirit," he said, before turning to Aaron. "And you, young man, you've shown remarkable bravery today. Do you know CPR?"

Aaron felt his cheeks heat up under the doctor's praise. "Yes," he admitted, feeling a bit embarrassed. "My parents made sure I knew it after..." he trailed off, not wanting to bring up the past.

The doctor nodded knowingly. "It's a good skill to have," he said, turning back to Cora. "And it sounds like you've got a good support system here."

Cora looked at Aaron, her eyes wide with fear and uncertainty. He squeezed her hand tighter, willing her to find the strength she needed. "You can do this," he whispered.

Her heart hammered in her chest, the rhythm echoing the beat of the hospital's heart monitor. The room was a swirl of white coats and worried faces, but all she could focus on was the deep blue of Aaron's eyes. She took a deep breath, the smell of antiseptic mixing with the salty scent of the ocean that still lingered in her nostrils.

"You can't make me," she whispered, her voice trembling like the leaves of a tree in a storm. The words were barely audible, but they resonated in the silent room, a declaration of her deepest fears.

Aaron's eyes searched hers, filled with a mix of concern and determination. "We're not going to force you," he said softly. "But we're going to help you."

Cora felt a tear roll down her cheek, the coldness of the hospital room seeping into her bones. She didn't want to be afraid anymore, didn't want the water to control her life. But the thought of facing it, of diving into the deep end, was paralyzing.

"I'll take the class with you. I've been needing to get some experience to lifeguard during the summer anyway."

Aaron's words hung in the air like a lifeline thrown to a drowning swimmer. Cora's eyes widened at the suggestion; her fear momentarily forgotten in the face of his willingness to share this burden with her.

"We'll face it together," he continued, his voice steady and reassuring. "You don't have to do it alone."

Cora took a shaky breath, her eyes flicking to her parents and the doctor before returning to Aaron's. "Okay," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I'll do it."