Although the Prairie Embassy Hotel was finally within sight, they were still quite far away when the main road began to flood. Aby looked at her mother. Margaret nodded, and Aby pushed down the right pedal. The car gathered speed. Margaret held the door handle tightly. Water pressed against the floorboards as the car hit a pothole and dipped forward. Water splashed over the hood and the engine, and the white Honda Civic stalled.
Aby repeatedly turned the key in the ignition. The engine refused to start. She opened her door. Water flooded in. Getting out, Aby waded through knee-high water. She circled the white Honda Civic and, after three attempts, opened the passenger door.
“Come on,” Aby said. “We’ll have to swim from here.”
Margaret did not respond. Orange rust fell from the edges of her gills and trickled down her collarbone in a steady stream, staining the collar and front of her shirt and pooling in her lap. She was unconscious.
“No, Mom. Not yet,” Aby said.