Vivian POV
"C'mon, Bella, it'll be fun!" I tugged my little sister's hand, her flip-flops slapping against the pavement as we snuck down the path to the community pool. The summer sun beat down, making my T-shirt stick to my back. I was twelve, too antsy to sit in our stuffy house all day, and Bella, nine and always up for trouble, grinned like I'd promised her candy.
"Dad said we can't go without him," she said, but her eyes sparkled, already half-convinced.
"Dad's at work, and he'll never know." I gave her braid a playful yank. "Unless you're chicken."
"Am not!" she huffed, sticking out her tongue. "Race you!"
She took off, her skinny legs pumping, and I laughed, chasing her through the gate. The pool was nearly empty, just a couple of kids splashing in the shallow end and a lifeguard scrolling on his phone. Perfect. I dropped our towels on a chair and kicked off my sneakers.
"Last one in's a rotten egg!" I shouted, cannonballing into the deep end. Water rushed over me, cool and sharp, and I surfaced to see Bella hesitating at the edge.
"It's too deep," she said, chewing her lip. She could swim, but not great, Dad always hovered when we went to the beach.
"You'll be fine. I'm right here." I swam closer, treading water. "Jump to me, okay? I promise I'll catch you."
"Promise promise?" She wiggled her toes over the edge, peering down at the water like it might bite.
"Cross my heart," I replied, making an X over my chest. "Come on, scaredy-cat!"
She nodded, took a big breath, and leaped. Her splash was pathetic, but she came up giggling, flailing toward me. I grabbed her hands, spinning her in a circle until she squealed.
"Again!" she demanded, dog-paddling back to the ladder. "That was so fun, Viv!"
"See? Told you this was better than watching TV all day," I said, splashing her lightly.
We played for hours, Marco Polo, diving for coins I swiped from Dad's change jar, pretending we were mermaids. Bella's laugh was the best part, loud and fearless, like she didn't care who heard. I taught her how to float on her back, holding her up when she wobbled.
"Relax your body," I instructed, my hands supporting her back. "Like you're lying in bed."
"It's hard!" she complained, sinking the moment I let go. "How do you make it look so easy?"
"Years of practice," I boasted. "By the time you're my age, you'll be even better."
"You're getting good," I said after her fifth attempt, splashing her face. "Bet you'll beat me in a race soon."
"No way, you're too fast!" She splashed back, and we dissolved into a water fight, shrieking until the lifeguard stood up and blew his whistle.
"Hey, you two! Take it down a notch!" he called, pointing at us.
"Sorry!" I shouted back, then whispered to Bella, "Party pooper," making her giggle into her hands.
By late afternoon, my fingers were pruney, and Bella's lips were turning blue. The few other families had left, leaving just us and a teenage couple kissing near the shallow end.
"One more jump," she begged, climbing the ladder again. Her swimsuit, bright pink with yellow stars, hung loose around her skinny frame. "A big one!"
"Alright, but make it quick," I said, leaning against the pool's edge. "I'm starving. Maybe we can grab ice cream on the way home."
"Really?" Her eyes lit up. "Double scoop?"
"Don't push it," I laughed. "Come on, show me your best dive."
She stood at the deep end, bouncing on her toes, then launched herself into the air. Her form was all wrong, arms flopping, legs splayed, but she hit the water with a whoop. I waited for her to pop up, ready to tease her about her goofy dive.
She didn't.
"Bella?" I called, pushing off the wall. The water was still, no bubbles, no splashing. My heart stuttered. "Bella!"
I dove under, eyes stinging as I scanned the blue. There, a shadow near the bottom. I kicked hard, grabbing her arm. She was limp, her braid floating like seaweed. Panic clawed my chest as I dragged her up, breaking the surface with a gasp.
"Help!" I screamed, hauling her to the edge. "Somebody help us! She's not breathing!"
The lifeguard was already running, blowing his whistle. I pushed Bella onto the deck, her skin cold under my hands.
"Wake up, Bella, please!" I shook her shoulder gently. "Come on, open your eyes!"
The lifeguard shoved me aside, starting CPR. "How long was she under?" he demanded.
"I-I don't know," I stammered, hugging myself. "Maybe thirty seconds? A minute?"
"Call 911!" he shouted to the teenage couple, who scrambled for their phones.
Kids were crying, adults shouting, but it all blurred into noise. I knelt there, soaked and shaking, whispering, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," like it could fix anything.
"Is she gonna be okay?" I asked the lifeguard, my voice breaking. "Please tell me she'll be okay."
He didn't answer, just kept pressing on her chest, breathing into her mouth. Bella looked so small, so fragile against the concrete.
Paramedics came, then police. They loaded Bella onto a stretcher, but her eyes stayed closed. An oxygen mask covered her face, making her look even smaller.
"Can I go with her?" I begged, reaching for the ambulance doors. "She'll be scared when she wakes up."
"Are you family?" a paramedic asked, his face grim.
"I'm her sister," I choked out. "Please, I need to be with her."
"We need to focus on treating her," he said, his voice gentler now. "The police will take you to your parents."
A cop with kind eyes asked me questions, what happened, why were we alone, but I could barely choke out answers. All I could see was Bella's face, pale and still.
"We weren't supposed to be here," I admitted, tears streaming down my face. "Dad told us to stay home, but I wanted to swim, and I convinced her to come. It's all my fault!"
"Take a breath, sweetheart," the officer said, patting my shoulder awkwardly. "Accidents happen."
But it wasn't just an accident. It was my stupid idea, my carelessness.
Someone drove me home, though I don't remember who. The house was quiet when I stumbled in, my wet clothes dripping on the marble floor. Dad was in his study, the door half-open. I hesitated, then pushed it wider.
"Dad?" My voice was small, like I was five again.
He looked up from his desk, his face tight. "What did you do, Vivian?"
I flinched. "It was an accident. We were just playing, and, "
"You took her to the pool?" His voice rose, sharp enough to cut. "I told you to stay home!"
"I'm sorry," I sobbed, wrapping my arms around myself. "I tried to save her. I pulled her out as fast as I could!"
"Sorry doesn't bring her back!" He slammed his fist on the desk, papers scattering. "You were supposed to watch her! My little girl's gone because of you!"
His words hit like a slap. I backed away, tears streaming. "Is she, is she really gone?"
Dad's face crumpled, aging a decade in seconds. "The hospital called. They couldn't revive her."
"No," I shook my head, refusing to believe it. "No, she was just laughing. She was fine!"
"Get out," he snapped, pointing at the door. "I can't even look at you right now."
"Dad, please," I stepped toward him, desperate for him to hold me, to tell me it would somehow be okay. "I didn't mean for this to happen. I love her too!"
"If you loved her, you wouldn't have put her in danger!" he roared. "This is your fault, Vivian. ALL YOUR FAULT!"
I ran to my room, slamming the door. My chest heaved as I slid to the floor, Bella's laugh still ringing in my ears. I'd killed her. My fault, all my fault. Dad's voice echoed, my little girl's gone, and I knew he wished it was me instead.
That night, I lay awake, staring at the ceiling. Mom wasn't home yet, probably still at the hospital with Bella's body. The thought made me gag. Shadows moved outside my window, and I swore I heard a car engine idling, low and steady. I crept to the curtain, peeking out. A black sedan sat at the curb, headlights off. Someone was inside, just a shape, watching the house. My skin prickled, but when I blinked, the car was gone.
"Hello?" I whispered, half-convinced I was losing my mind. "Is anyone there?"
Silence answered me.
I shook it off, crawling back to bed. It was nothing, just my head messing with me. But the next morning, Dad didn't speak to me. He moved around the kitchen like a ghost, eyes red-rimmed, ignoring my attempts to apologize again.
"Dad, can we talk?" I tried, my voice hoarse from crying all night. "Please?"
He poured his coffee and walked out without a word.
At school, kids whispered, pointing. That's the girl who let her sister drown. Their words followed me down the hall, into classrooms, echoing in the cafeteria.
"I heard she pushed her in," one girl said, not bothering to lower her voice.
"My mom says they shouldn't have been there without adults," another replied.
I kept my head down, wishing I could disappear. Because they were right, I'd had one job: keep Bella safe. And I'd failed in the worst possible way.