Prologue
Strange how much brighter the world feels at only ten. Even when tangled in worries, the best days easily outshone the bad. My favorites always smelled like chlorine and sunshine, with my toes teetering at the edge of a sign boldly marked “six feet.” I gulped, breath trembling, and jumped.
Father’s voice rang out across the blue, urging me toward him at the far side of the pool. “Come on, Ashanti! Just kick and keep your head up. You’ve got this!”
His encouragement was the air I breathed—until panic crashed in. My arms burned. My lungs felt like anchors. Every part of me screamed to grab the railing and give up.
But then I saw his smile, broad and patient, waiting for me. Coaxing me. Daring me. Keep going.
Terror pressed at my skin, but I swam through it, ignoring the sting in my eyes and kicking with every ounce of strength I had.
Water spluttered past my lips as I finally reached the shallow end. Father knelt to meet me, face alight with pride, and lifted me high, spinning me through the air. “You did it! I knew you could!”
That feeling—absolute, swelling pride—did what nothing else could or would. I carry it still, even as life has dimmed to gray.
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