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“Eyes, she had been told, are windows to the soul. Were his windows just misted over? Was Grandpa actually inside, standing behind the clouded glass, knocking back at her, calling out to her, from behind the fogged up frames? Or, instead of a window, was he underwater, trapped beneath a frozen lake, desperately trying to break through the layers of ice? Was he struggling, reaching out to her - her - a distant murky shadow from the surface out above? Was he gasping for air? Was he shouting for help? Scratching, clawing, banging from behind those misted windows...from where no one could hear him scream? Was Grandpa already broken? Had he already...drowned? Alexis shivered. No. I refuse to believe that. You're still in there and we are going to pull you back out.” — Daryl Kho