She had been pulled from the sea, cold as ice and white as snow. They had lain her on the sand and I had tried, oh God, I had tried, to breathe some life back into her. Her eyes had gazed up at me, stunned and confused in death, as if she couldn’t believe that this was where we would end. What are you doing? she seemed to be asking. Are you really going to let me go? Do something, Nikolai. Do something.
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