She's not alone. The sun's warm, comfortable, easy. Steph's tired, bone-achingly tired, her bad arm twinging painfully and her heart heavy. There's just so much stuff to deal with out there.

But here, now, there's just swimming, the lapping of the lake, the occasional splashes that indicate someone else in the water far enough away not to be a concern. And peace.

By the time she pulls herself out of the lake, sitting on the pebbled shore to dry herself off, she's calm again, face serene. If far too old for her age.