Death in the Pool

My ten-year-old son, James, was supposed to be enjoying his after-school swim club. Instead, his classmates held his head down, pinning him to the pool's suction drain.

I dove in like a madman when I saw the water blooming with a sickening crimson. But by the time I dragged him out, the brutal force of the drain had already torn his face beyond recognition. He choked up a final pool of dark blood and went completely still.

The ringleader, an arrogant boy, sneered without a shred of remorse.

"So what? Im a minor, the law can't touch me anyway."

"Besides, I couldn't stand him. Now that he's dead, nobody is in my way for first place."

His father tossed a credit card at my feet with a lazy, patronizing shrug.

"There is a hundred grand on there. That should be more than enough to buy your boy's cheap life."

Grief-stricken, I demanded justice, but my wife, Audrey, held me back.

"They're just kids, Lucas! Our boy is already gone, do you really want to ruin another child's entire future?"

My relentless crusade only managed to land the boy a brief stint in juvenile hall, a far cry from the justice my son deserved. Consumed by despair, I swallowed an entire bottle of sleeping pills by my son's grave.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day I was supposed to drop James off at the pool.

Instantly, I grabbed his hand and dragged him back to the car. We were going home. But even with James safe, the tragedy of the pool still unfolded, only this time, it claimed a different boy.

We had left in such a hurry that Jamess dry clothes were still in the locker room.

I told him to wait in the car while I ran back inside, intending to also warn the facility manager about the dangerous suction drain.

But the moment I stepped into the natatorium, a chorus of cruel laughter echoed off the tiled walls.

"Look at him! Doesn't he look like a dead fish? Move, you idiot! Why aren't you moving? Hahaha!"

Three boys were laughing hysterically. The tallest, Mason, was stepping heavily on a patch of blue fabric underwater.

Seeing that familiar shade of blue, identical to James's swimsuit, and the faint pink cloud rising in the water made my heart stop. If I hadn't known for a fact that James was sitting safely in the car, I would have collapsed right there.

In my past life, Mason had targeted James because my son beat him academically, and Mason wanted to crush him in the pool too.

But who was this boy? And why were they doing this to him?

I didn't have time to think. I rushed forward, shouting at the top of my lungs.

"Stop! What the hell are you doing?!"

Mason looked up, raised an eyebrow, and took a casual step back.

"Oh, look, the old dog's here to protect his pup. Game's over, boys."

The other two boys jumped back like startled rabbits, refusing to look me in the eye.

Even though they had released him, the immense suction held the boy's face flat against the drain grate. His limbs floated limply.

In my past life, James had been trapped exactly like this. I had dove in to save him, but the suction was too strong to fight. By the time the staff turned off the filtration system, the golden window had slammed shut, and my son died in my arms.

The blue swimsuit, the medium-cropped hair, the slight build... I kept telling myself James was safe, but my hands shook uncontrollably.

Drawing on my grim experience, I screamed at the nearby lifeguard.

"What are you standing there for? There's a kid stuck to the drain! Shut off the filtration system now!"

The lifeguard finally snapped out of his daze and scrambled to call the control room.

A few agonizing minutes later, I pulled the boy's limp body from the water. His face was swollen and distorted, completely unrecognizable. He wasn't breathing, and there was no pulse.

Mason stood nearby with his arms crossed, a smug smirk playing on his lips.

"Mister, he said he could hold his breath for three minutes. We were just helping him."

"Helping him?!"

My vision went red. I slapped him hard across the face.

"You call pinning him to a drainage grate helping him?!"

Mason clutched his cheek, glaring at me with venom.

"It was just a game! Who knew he'd be such a wimp?"

"How dare you hit me? Do you know who my mother is? She'll destroy your whole family!"

I knew exactly who his mother was, and it only made me want to tear that arrogant look off his face. His mother had married a useless parasite named Richard, and together they had raised this little monster.

"A game? This is murder! Do you understand that?!"

The chubby boy beside Mason finally started to look terrified, his voice trembling.

"Mason, did we... did we go too far?"

Before he could finish, Mason snapped.

"Shut up! You were holding him down just as hard!"

The third boy burst into tears.

"I want to go home..."

I ignored them, laying the boy flat on the tile. I began administering CPR, screaming at the staff.

"Call an ambulance! Hurry! He might still have a chance!"

As I tilted his chin back to give him rescue breaths, I noticed a tiny, dark-red birthmark shaped like a plum blossom behind his ear. Something clicked in my mind, but the thought slipped away before I could grasp it.

Just then, Coach Briggs walked in through the side door, exhaling a slow puff of cigarette smoke, accompanied by Richard, Mason's father.

The moment they saw the scene by the pool, the color drained from their faces.

"What... what happened here?!"

Mason immediately twisted his face into a mask of tearful innocence, running to his father.

"Dad! We were just having a breath-holding contest. He said he could do three minutes, but then..."

"This is unacceptable!"

Coach Briggs went pale.

"Ive told you boys a thousand times, no swimming without a coach present!"

"I'm sorry, Dad, I won't do it again," Mason whimpered, burying his face in his father's side, though he cast a malicious smirk at me from the shadows. "But that mister over there hit me!"

Richard saw the red handprint on his son's face and pointed an angry finger at me.

"Who the hell do you think you are, putting your hands on my son?"

He cast a dismissive glance at the dead boy on the floor.

"The kid didn't follow the rules, and his parents clearly weren't watching him. You can't blame anyone else for a tragic accident, right?"

In my past life, the security footage showed Mason pushing James into the pool from behind before all three boys dragged him to the drain and held him down.

The boy lying here had suffered the exact same fate.

I knew the agonizing pain of losing a child. No matter who this boy was, he was innocent. Saving him was the only thing that mattered. I didn't waste my breath on Richard, continuing my chest compressions while looking at the coach.

"Coach Briggs, this happened on your watch. You have a responsibility here. You need to contact this boy's parents immediately."

Coach Briggs fumbled with his phone, his hands shaking so violently he nearly dropped it.

"Yes... yes, of course... I'll call right away..."

A few seconds later, he looked down at the boy's mangled, swollen face.

"But... his face is so swollen, I can't tell which student he is."

I looked up, thoroughly exasperated.

"Then check your roster! See who was supposed to be here today, cross-reference the absences, and look at who's standing right here!"

Mason chimed in, stepping forward.

"Don't bother looking, Coach. I know exactly who it is."

He crouched down next to me, staring at the boy's face. His voice was quiet, but his words pierced my ears like needles.

"It's James, Mister. Don't you even recognize your own son?"

"You were so dramatic earlier, I thought you knew. Or were you just too scared to face the truth?"

My eyes widened as I stared at him.

They thought this was James? That was why they had done this?

Mason seemed delighted by my shock. Seeing that my hands hadn't stopped pumping the boy's chest, he shook his head.

"Don't waste your energy. You've been doing CPR for twenty minutes, but he was under for ten. The golden window is long gone. He's brain-dead."

My hands went limp, and I collapsed onto the cold tiles, my entire body shaking.

Was I too late again?

In my past life, I couldn't save my own son. In this life, I couldn't save this boy either.

I glared at Mason.

"Why would you do this? Aren't you afraid of retribution?"

"Oh, I'm shaking in my boots," he mocked, clutching his chest dramatically. "What retribution? The law?"

"I'm only eleven. Under the law, anyone under fourteen can't be held criminally responsible."

He was so close I could smell the orange shampoo in his hair. That scent, combined with those exact words, had been the soundtrack to my nightmares in my past life.

Looking at his twisted, malicious face, the hatred I had suppressed across two lifetimes boiled over. I grabbed him by the hair and shoved his face toward the water.

"You sadistic little monster! I'll let you taste what it feels like..."

Before I could drag him under, Richard slammed his heavy key ring into the side of my head. The metal cut deep into my forehead, and blood began to trickle down my face.

I was forced to let go, and Richard quickly pulled Mason behind him.

"Are you insane?!" Richard roared.

"It was an accident! Why are you taking it out on a child? My son is just a boy, how could he understand the consequences? It was a tragic accident!"

"An accident?!"

The blood roared in my ears.

"Go check the security cameras! Three of them held his head down and forced him into the drain! You call that an accident?!"

Richard glanced back at his son, who looked slightly guilty, before slowly pulling a black card from his wallet.

"What do you want, justice? Let me tell you something, Mister. Justice in this world depends entirely on who you are and how much you can pay."

He took a step forward, tapping the card against my nose.

"Do you know who my son is? His mother is the sole heiress of the Harrington Group."

"And your son? Just a working-class brat. His life isn't worth ruining my son's future."

He tossed the card directly at my bleeding forehead.

"There's a hundred grand on this card. The pin is six eights. Take the money, bury your kid, and keep your mouth shut."

"If you breathe a word of this to anyone, or if you call the police, I'll make sure you and your wife can't even get jobs sweeping streets in this city."

Mason peeked out from behind his father, sticking his tongue out at me. There wasn't a trace of fear on his face, only pure, malicious triumph.

Coach Briggs, desperate to avoid a scandal, whispered in my ear.

"Jamess dad, look, it was an accident. Since they're offering to settle this privately, why don't we all just take a step back?"

Take a step back?

I looked at the black card on the floor, then at the cold, lifeless boy, and a bitter laugh escaped my lips.

A child's life was just a transaction to them, negotiated with such casual ease.

My eyes fell on the birthmark behind the boy's ear again, and suddenly, I remembered who he was.

If a working-class boy's life wasn't enough to bring them down, let's see how many of their own lives they would have to pay to settle the score for this boy.

Mason kept rambling.

"Mister, be smart. Money is real. Your kid is dead anyway, you can always just make another one..."

I slowly raised my head, my eyes locking onto his arrogant face.

"Your mother's money won't save you this time."

He tilted his chin up.

"Say whatever you want. I won't get in trouble anyway. My dad said the law protects minors like me."

I gently wiped the water and blood from the dead boy's face, my finger brushing against the plum-blossom birthmark. Then, I took off my jacket and laid it gently over his body, giving him his last shred of dignity.

"Protects you?"

I let out a cold, hollow laugh.

"Then you'd better pray that the law is the only thing people believe in."

Richard frowned, his eyes narrowing.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

I ignored him, pulling out my phone to send a single text. Then, I leaned down and whispered into the dead boy's ear.

"Don't worry, buddy. Your mom is on her way."

With that, I began dialing 911.

"What do you think you're doing?!" Richard demanded, his voice dropping to a threatening register. "I told you, we settle this here and now! If you dare..."