“We have to dive into the water,” Dante said. “I can’t dive.” I didn’t think anyone could survive jumping into that water. And I thought Dante and I were going to die. Dante wasn’t afraid. He smiled. “We have to dive. Just dive when I dive.” I trusted him—so I dived when he dived. And then I felt myself coming to the surface. The water was warm, and Dante and I smiled at each other. And then he pointed toward the sandy beach. And I saw my father waving at us and smiling.
