I pushed forward through the water.
My arms felt heavy.
Every breath seemed harder than the one before.
The whistle sounded again.
This time, it came from much closer.
I lifted my head and spotted a small boat moving across the lake.
A teenager was standing near the front.
He was waving both arms.
I couldn't hear what he was saying.
I raised one hand.
He pointed toward the water.
Then he pointed toward me.
I realized he was trying to guide me toward his boat.
I kept swimming.
My legs were beginning to cramp.
I had never imagined that searching for my own daughter could leave me so physically helpless.
The teenager leaned over the side.
"Ma'am! Are you looking for a little girl?"
I tried to answer.
My voice barely came out.
"Yes! My daughter!"
He looked toward the water.
"What's she wearing?"
"Pink swimsuit!"
I pointed toward the area where I had last seen Cassie.
"She's seven!"
He nodded quickly.
"Stay there! We're helping!"
I wanted to ask his name.
I wanted to know whether he had seen her.
But I couldn't waste the breath.
He turned toward someone inside the boat.
"Call it in!"
The other person reached for a phone.
For the first time, someone was actually doing something.
I started crying again.
Not because I felt safe.
Because I finally understood that somebody had heard me.
The teenager threw a flotation device into the water.
I reached for it.
My fingers slipped the first time.
Then I managed to hold on.
"What's your name?" he shouted.
"Jill!"
"I'm Dax!"
He was fifteen years old.
I would learn that later.
At that moment, he was simply the person who had stopped when everyone else seemed determined to ignore what was happening.
Dax looked toward the open water.
"Where did she fall?"
I pointed.
"From a jet ski!"
He glanced toward the dock.
I followed his eyes.
Trey was still there.
My father was standing beside him.
The orange life jacket was visible on the boards.
Dax looked back at me.
"Was she wearing one?"
I shook my head.
"No!"
He didn't ask another question.
He picked up the whistle again.
One long blast.
Then two shorter ones.
The boat began moving slowly toward the area I had indicated.
I held the flotation device and tried to keep my head above the water.
I wanted to go with them.
I wanted to search every inch of the lake.
But I could barely keep myself moving.
Dax leaned over again.
"Keep holding on!"
I heard Cassie's voice in my head.
Hold on until Mommy gets there.
I closed my eyes for a second.
Then I opened them.
I had to stay awake.
I had to stay alive.
I couldn't help her if I disappeared beneath the water too.
Dax kept looking around.
He was scanning the surface carefully.
Every few seconds, he called toward the person operating the boat.
"Over there!"
Then he would point in another direction.
I followed his movements.
I couldn't see anything.
The lake looked enormous.
The water was filled with reflections from the afternoon sun.
There were boats everywhere.
I wondered how many people had passed close to Cassie without knowing she was missing.
A motor sounded behind us.
I turned.
A sheriff's patrol boat was approaching.
The sight of it nearly broke me.
I began waving.
"Help! Please!"
One of the officers stood near the front.
He raised his hand.
"We've got you!"
Those three words were the first thing that made me believe we might find her.
The patrol boat slowed.
The officer asked me what had happened.
"My daughter fell off a jet ski!"
"How old?"
"Seven!"
"Where did she go in?"
I pointed again.
"About three hundred yards from the dock!"
He looked toward Dax.
Dax repeated the information.
Then he pointed toward the same area.
The officers began coordinating their search.
One of them helped me toward the patrol boat.
I tried to climb aboard.
My arms wouldn't cooperate.
The officer reached down and pulled me up.
I landed hard on the floor.
My knees hurt.
I didn't care.
"Please find her."
He crouched beside me.
"We're searching."
"She's wearing pink."
He nodded.
"Pink swimsuit?"
"Yes."
"What's her name?"
"Cassie Navarro."
He repeated it into his radio.
I heard the name of my daughter spoken by someone who wasn't trying to protect my brother.
It mattered more than I could explain.
I turned toward Dax.
He was still nearby.
His face looked serious.
He wasn't acting like a boy who had just interrupted his holiday.
He looked like someone who understood that a child was in danger.
"Thank you," I said.
He shook his head.
"We're going to find her."
I wanted to believe him.
The sheriff's boat moved farther out.
The officer asked me to describe the exact place where Cassie had fallen.
I tried.
I explained the jet ski.
I explained the wake.
I explained how Trey had continued driving.
I told him about the orange life jacket.
He listened without interrupting.
Then he asked where Trey was.
I pointed toward the dock.
"He's there."
The officer looked in that direction.
"Is that the person operating the jet ski?"
"Yes."
"Your brother?"
"Yes."
He made a note.
I could feel my hands shaking.
I looked down at them.
My fingers were wrinkled from the water.
There was a small cut near my thumb.
I couldn't remember when I had gotten it.
I thought about Cassie's hands.
Small fingers.
Pink fingernails.
A tiny mark on her right index finger from a craft project she had done the previous week.
I wanted to hold those hands again.
I wanted to hear her complain about the life jacket.
I wanted to tell her she could choose whatever dessert she wanted for the rest of the summer.
I would have promised her anything.
The officer spoke again.
"Ma'am, we're going to need you to stay with us."
I shook my head.
"I need to search."
"We understand."
"She's my little girl."
"I know."
He said it quietly.
Then another officer called from the front.
Something had caught their attention.
I stood up too quickly.
The boat rocked.
"Where?"
The officer raised one hand.
"Please sit down."
I couldn't.
I stared toward the water.
A small orange object was visible in the distance.
My heart jumped.
Then I realized it was only a buoy.
Not Cassie's life jacket.
Not her swimsuit.
Just a marker.
I sat down again.
I covered my mouth.
The search continued.
Dax remained nearby.
His boat had moved farther along the marker line.
He was looking toward the water again.
I watched him until the distance made his face difficult to see.
I didn't know what would happen next.
But I knew something important had changed.
My family was no longer controlling the situation.
The officers were.
And for the first time, I could hear people asking questions that actually mattered.
Click here to continue reading: PART 6: My Daughter Was Found Holding an Orange Marker, and I Learned How Close We Had Come to Losing Her
My Brother Returned Without My Daughter, Carrying Something That Made Everyone at the Dock Go Quiet
Part 5 of 10
