"Not yet."

In truth it's not ever. The stillness of the lake is what he's aiming for, and lake trout don't care to stray far from deeper waters. He paddles out, swapping the oar from side to side and splashing water down across the tops of their shoes. Doesn't bother to stop till the house has shrunk down to more of a dark speck than something recognizable.

"There. That ought to do it." Joel eyes her bone-white knuckles before adding, "ever cast a line?"