Sandra Numbers was sitting in a diner, six months after her high school graduation, unsure of her future, contemplating what to do next, beyond staring out at the harbor, stroking the long hair tucked behind her ear. That boat, strangely named Wicker, it's not made of wicker but I feel like a wicker boat sometimes. Sinking slowly. Sinking... is that man dead?

Nicholas Wicker, the man floating face first in the water, was not actually dead. Acting quickly, Sandra made sure to keep it that way.

"You saved me!"
"I was a lifeguard in high school."
"I'm indebted to you."

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