She scrubbed at her body with an orphaned loofah and every bath product that lined the shower wall, until the chlorine on her skin was replaced by mango, kiwi, coconut and cocoa butter. Eventually, the water ran tepid, then cold, and she reluctantly turned off the faucet, feeling as if she was breaking a spell, and this made her cry all over again. Her eyes burned, her head throbbed and the pain of it was the only thing that stopped her from crying more.

She cracked the bathroom door open and, hearing loud music coming from the salon downstairs, felt relieved she wouldn’t have to face anyone. She crept quietly down the hall to her room and pushed open the door. Inside, a single lit lamp illuminated Micah’s figure lying atop her bed, his legs crossed at the ankles and hands clasped across his chest.

“I was worried,” he said, without turning to look at her, and she was grateful for this small mercy. “What happened out there?”

She sank down on one of the plush velvet chairs that had formerly populated the room, several feet away from the bed. “Nothing,” she said, then caught herself just as Micah turned his head toward her. She sighed. “I just didn’t think that was funny, what Justin was doing.”

“Floating in the pool?” Micah asked.

“Dead man’s float, he called it,” she said, unable to control the sharp edge in her voice. “It wasn’t funny.”

“I don’t think he meant it to be funny,” Micah said. “He was just doing something that felt good to him. Meditative, I think he said.”

She snorted out a rude chuckle and shook her head. Then, to her horror, she started crying again, big fat tears rolling down her cheeks like children racing down parallel slides at a playground. She was gulping for air, her breath ragged and punctuated by cries coming from low in her throat. Then she was rocking, forward and back, putting a hand on her forehead, because a hand needed to be there, but it wasn’t cool like her mother’s, and brought no relief. She felt her hand replaced by Micah’s, soothing against the fire that raged inside. Micah pulled her out of the chair and onto the floor, where he held her, his arms wrapped around her, rocking with her. When she stopped crying, they were still in this position, lying sideways on the floor.

And she told him about Prem. This time, she shared everything. Not only that she was the one to discover Prem and could not save him, but her slow-motion realization that she had caused this unspeakable thing to happen. She was the one who had neglected her baby brother and his innocent pleas to go swimming that day. She was responsible for the pain that transformed each of her parents in their own way and led to the ultimate dissolution of her family.

“You’ve been punishing yourself ever since, haven’t you?” Micah stroked her hair from behind.