Alice wouldn't stop screaming, and before I knew it several guests gathered, some in a frenzy, others gaping with strong interest or pity. I didn't know how to start explaining what truly happened or why the birthday girl was drowning in a pool.

Right on cue, my family appeared. I saw Shawn quickly tear off his jacket and jump into the pool. A loud splash followed, some droplets tinkling on my face.

“Alice!” He shouted, swimming like a fish to her rescue. When he reached her, he scooped her up like a tender child, guiding her to the edge of the pool with admirable agility. A round of applause followed as the guests cheered for him.

“Oh, Alice, are you hurt? Are you okay?” His entire focus was on her, as water from her damp hair and clothes pooled around them on the surface. She clung to him as if her life depended on him, quivering against his chest while his eyes scanned her for injuries.

Just then, her face turned to me and she cast an accusative glance. “Sister, if I have ever done anything to offend you, why not just tell me, huh? Why push me into the pool when you know I cannot swim? Why are you trying to hurt me? I have done nothing but be kind to you…”

The clapping died a quick death and hushed murmurs spread amongst the guests. Phones out. Camera flash lights. I looked around, eyes widened. But before I could say a word, mother pushed forward.

“Emma! You know that she is terrified of the pool! How dare you do such a horrendous thing?” Her face twisted with fury and hate!

“Grace, let's calm down…” My father tried to intervene but not before my mother shoved me harshly. My heels slipped, and the slippery floor did the rest.

I was sent over the edge, the cold swallowing my face. The water closed like a fist and my lungs buckled. Sound turned to a distant drum — the quandary receding into a muffled, indifferent roar.

I struggled to breathe, tried to scream, but fluid rushed into my orifices, threatening to enter my brain. A sharp pain followed! I kicked. Again and again. No help. My survival instincts swung into action, but with each attempt to live, my strength failed even more.

Like Alice, I couldn't swim either.

Fear gripped me. I cried out for help but my chest burned instead as the heavy weight of the water pressed me down. My senses flared as I prayed for help. I could see and hear muffled laughter and giggling from the surface, yet no one came for me. Not my mother. Not even my husband. Even though they were all by the edge of the pool.

“Stop pretending, Emma!” My mother echoed with disdain. She knew I couldn't swim. She was my mother for goodness’ sake!

“No one is going to fall for those theatrics. First, you kidnap your innocent sister, now you attempt to drown her? John, when will this end?” She continued, turning to my father who shrugged, shaking his head.

Time stopped. Pain worsened. I became weightless at the bottom of the pool. Yet, I could see them all. From my father whose arms were akimbo, to my husband — I couldn't tell which was more heartbreaking.

My husband knew I couldn't swim, yet he remained with Alice. And let me drown. He even cursed at me!

“You knew she was pregnant! You knew, Emma! Yet you attempted to kill her —and the baby?”

The accusation struck me like lightning. In that moment, I shook hands with anguish. I tried to scream once more—to beg even — but I could barely move anymore.

“You will remain in that pool tonight and think of what you have done!” Shawn’s voice reverberated.

With that, he stood up with Alice in his hands. But as he was about to leave, I caught her flashing me a devilish grin, just momentarily, before they disappeared to God-knows-where.

Slowly, the crowd dispersed as well, my parents following suit without so much as a backward glance. I was left there stranded, dying, and torn beyond repair.

I was ready to give up the ghost. For if this were my life now, I didn't want to live it. Darkness began to creep in, my vision blurring. But just as I was about to give up the ghost, a splash of water came. A body swam to me, pulled me up, and swam to the surface. Just from the solid structure of the body and impeccable strength, I could tell it was a man.

I saw an arrow crest on his cloth as he swam with desperate urgency, just like I had wished, hoped, and prayed my husband did. Before long, fresh air brushed against my face. And through my blurry vision, I could tell that I lived. I survived.

But who was that man?

While I was wondering about this, blackness took over, and my consciousness escaped me.

The next time I opened my eyes, it was the stark whiteness of a hospital ceiling that greeted me, a mild antiseptic smell in the air confirming the location.

“Oh, she is awake! Thank goodness!” A familiar voice rang in my ears. I veered around slowly only to see Shawn, smiling like a man with an incredible testimony.

“Lawd, please…” I cursed under my breath.

“Honey, you have been unconscious for three days,” he tried to reach for me but a nurse nearby gestured at him to stop.

“Easy, Mr Shawn,” she warned.

He nodded.

“My love,” he continued, his brows angling like a sorry puppy. “Forgive me for what happened last night. I guess I was overwhelmed by the fact that Alice was pregnant. You know how your family does not play around with their heirs. I had to make sure she was okay. I didn't mean to make you feel abandoned. I just had to rush her to the hospital first.”

I just gaped at him, his puppy eyes, red face, emotional demeanor — he was the perfect blackmailer. I said nothing. I just managed to keep my face plain and emotionless.

It was almost as if he took cognizance of my indifference. His eyes fell. Then he tried again. “You know if something had happened to Alice or the baby, your parents would blame you for it. They would never forgive you. I was only trying to protect you.”

With the way he gazed at me with emotion, if I didn't know better I would have believed him to be sincere. I could tell he expected me to fall for this. But, no. That time had passed. That foolish me died in the pool. And even though the bleeding and aching of my chest from that trauma still lingered, I was willing to begin the painful journey of healing. I couldn't let him have the satisfaction of knowing this though.

“My baby,” he called softly. Then gently placed his warm palm on mine. Our eyes stayed locked for a while, silence stretching uncomfortably. “You are going to be okay. I'm here with you now and I'm not going anywhere. Remember, it's you and me against the world.”

Then he smiled sweetly.

I didn't.

His face faltered, a flicker of disappointment appearing. He hesitated, then pressed my hand tighter, warmer. “Darling, I’m sorry this happened to you.” All these he said in sign language and words.

I didn't pull away, didn't respond either. I just slowly turned my gaze to the window, allowing the quietude to speak louder than words ever could.