Absolutely, Positively

the region of unbearable cold. “I knew then what had happened. They came straight toward me. I killed the first man with the spear gun. The other one was on me before I could reload. His shot missed. But he had a knife. Took it from a sheath he wore on his ankle. Sliced through my air hose.”

    “Oh, God, Harry.” She tightened her hold on him.

    “I had a knife, too. Dad had given it to me. I killed the bastard with it. But I was out of air. Took a tank off one of the dead men. Used it to swim on down to the cave. But I was too late. They were both dead.”

    Stark silence fell.

    Molly cradled Harry's face between her palms. She sensed that the tale was unfinished, although she did not know what remained to be told. She only knew that he had to tell her everything.

    Molly probed cautiously, feeling her way as carefully as though she walked through a minefield. “You said you knew as soon as you arrived on the scene that there was danger. That something terrible had happened?”

    Harry gazed past her into the night outside the window. “I saw the second boat anchored next to theirs. I reached out to touch the hull. Everything was wrong. So goddamned wrong.”

    “I understand.”

    “I found them. Brought them back to the surface. I couldn't seem to breathe, even though I had a half-full tank of air.” Harry rubbed his eyes with one hand. “And the water was a strange shade of red. A trick of the late afternoon light, I think. But it looked like blood.”

    “It must have been unbearable.”

    “Yes.”

    “No wonder you still dream about it. Harry, you couldn't save your parents' lives that day. But you must never forget that your father saved yours.”

    He pulled his attention away from the night and looked down at her with a scowl of confusion. “What?”

    “Your father taught you how to use a knife, didn't he? He gave you the one you wear. The one you used that day.”

    “He taught me everything he knew. It's the only reason that I survived that fight.”

    “The skills your father gave you saved your life that day, just as the mechanical toys my father made for me saved my life this afternoon.”

    Harry was silent for a moment. “Yes.”

    “Sometimes it's good to remember things like that, Harry. We're all connected to each other. Sometimes we save others. Sometimes they save us. That's the way life is. None of us can do all of the saving, all of the time.”

    Harry said nothing. But he did not pull away from her embrace.

    “Your father fulfilled his responsibility to you by teaching you the things you needed to know in order to survive in that terrible moment.”

    “Molly, I don't know what you're trying to do here, but if this is your idea of a little amateur psychology, forget it.” His mouth twisted bitterly. “Olivia already gave it her best shot, and she's an expert.”

    “What did Olivia say?”

    Harry shrugged. “She talked a lot about the destructiveness of guilt. Said there was medication for posttraumatic stress disorder. I told her that I wasn't interested in rewriting history with a feel-good pill.”

    Molly gave him a small shake. “What I'm telling you isn't therapy, it's truth. You're the one who's supposed to be the expert when it comes to sorting out reality from illusion. Well, look at this piece of truth I'm giving you, and tell me honestly if you think it's a lie.”

    “And just what is this truth you want me to see?”

    She refused to be intimidated by the anger that was pulsing through him. She knew intuitively that it was good for him to release the emotion. He had kept too many things bottled up inside for too long.

    “Listen to me, Harry. Your father saved your life that day, and that is exactly the way he would have wanted it. He was your father, and you were his son. He took care of you that day. It was his right as a father. Your mother would have felt the same way. That's the way it's supposed to be. You repaid the gift by passing it along.”

    Harry's jaw tightened. “I don't understand.”

    “What if it had been Josh instead of you who went down that day? What if he had been the one to encounter those two murderers?”

    Harry stared at her with unblinking eyes and said nothing. He did not have to say anything. Molly knew exactly what he was thinking. Harry had raised Josh. He had a father's instincts toward him.

    “I agree that a man like you would never be content to rewrite history in order to make himself feel better,”