Allison's POV
I swear on my dying mother's name—I did not leap into that lake by choice. Nor did I stumble into its cold, merciless depths by accident.
Someone shoved me. I remember it clearly. The sharp, undeniable force against my back, sudden and deliberate, knocking me off balance. But who? The face is a blur, lost in the haze of that split second. What remains vivid is the intent behind it—the kind that doesn't make mistakes. Whoever it was knew I couldn't swim, knew the water would swallow me whole. I've never swum a day in my life. The closest I've come to water is drinking it or letting it wash over me in the shower. Never have I willingly plunged beneath its surface, and I certainly wasn't about to start that day.