Chapter 7

Well, at least the stranger could report seeing a drowning man. Somebody would know what happened to Stephen—and no doubt report it to Emmett.

Stephen groaned. He could see it all now. Emmett would wallow in the attention. Wrapped in heartfelt condolences like fine silk, he would artfully mourn for the audience. The bereaved lover. Overacted, as usual.

What a pathetic legacy—to be nothing more than a scene, a script for a tepid actor to exploit. Stephen closed his eyes and wept.