My Swimmer Stepbrother's Forbidden Claim
He was swimming for something real now.
That was the difference. Nova was swimming to win, but Samuel was swimming for the life that had been taken from him, for the seven years of silence, for the community pool where he had screamed underwater and watched his bubbles rise like proof of existence. He was swimming for Fatima in the stands and Dalton on the pool deck and Isis behind the press barrier with her camera raised. He was swimming for every morning he had woken up and chosen not to quit, for every night he had stood at the edge of the water and thought you failed, you failed, you failed before diving in anyway.
Every stroke landed differently when you had something to swim for.