A frail hand reaches out, begging to be gripped and pulled back up to the surface, but never begging for mercy. She does not have any resent for the things she has done, the crimes she has committed, because in her mind they are not crimes.
The little girl stares back at her. Her golden hair, curling in ringlets, is blowing in the cold breeze, and she shivers, whether it's out of fear or coldness she cannot tell. Her eyes look like she wants to turn and run away, never to see the person in the icy lake again, but her hand reaches out towards the person, and it has a steady clamp on it. It's amazing how strong a four-year-old girl can be. She hates the woman she is steadily pulling up, but it seems to her she was the only woman who has ever understood her. She gives a last heave, and the woman is out of the pond, and sprawled on the ice, breathing heavily, a knife still clutched behind her back.
The woman looks at the little girl, and raises her knife. Max Coleman creeps backwards, her feet pushing her along the ice. However, the woman does not make any attempt to hurt the little girl. She just smiles vaguely, gets up, pockets the knife, and starts to simply walk away. However, just when it looks like she will never turn around, she does so, spinning, and falls on her knees, slipping back over to Max. In a sudden movement, she grips her arm and whisper frightening, yet comforting, words into the little girl's ear, "I will come back for you. I will just wait for the right time."
Max is shaking, as the woman gets up and runs away, her feet barely making any sound in the snow. Shivering in what now is clearly identified as fear, Max turns back towards the water. She thinks she can see, just on the surface, the shadow of a frail hand begging to be pulled upward.