Somehow, Karina pulled them both out onto the deck. She recalled the CPR training from her babysitting course and turned Prem’s body on its side so she could pound his back. His shoulder blades were so small, so thin, and his whole frame seemed fragile. Placing him gently on his back, she found the spot above his sternum and began to pump with her fists, elbows straight as she’d been taught. Water spurted out of his mouth like a fountain.

It was working. She could do this. She could save Prem and fix everything before Mom got home. After five compressions, Karina tilted his head back, plugged his nose and put her mouth over his cold blue lips, blowing with all her strength to push air into his lungs. She could do this, she had to. She heard his voice in her head: Kiki, please stay.

“Prem!” Karina yelled as she tried pounding his chest once more. She thought of running to call 911 but knew she could not leave him, could not stop. “Damn it, Prem!” Why won’t he respond? She screamed his name until her throat was raw, then she began to cry. When she looked up, she saw Mrs. Mandell from next door moving toward her, a phone to her ear.

Mrs. Mandell knelt down on the other side of Prem’s body. “I called 911. How long has he been like this?” She picked up his hand and touched his wrist.

Karina kept counting as she pumped his chest. Three . . . four . . . five . . . nothing. Why wasn’t he responding? Was he mad at her? Prem never got mad. It was only Karina who got mad at him. “I . . . I don’t know. Ten minutes? Fifteen?” She met Mrs. Mandell’s eyes and saw what she would later recognize as pity. In fact, it had been only three minutes since she had pulled Prem from the pool, according to the subsequent medical examiner’s report, which also stated that Prem had been submerged in the water for at least twenty minutes, enough time for his lungs to fill completely.

“The ambulance is on its way, honey,” Mrs. Mandell said. “Is your mother here?”

Karina shook her head. “She’ll be home soon. Mom will be home soon,” she said, choking on the words she said to Prem every afternoon as a directive, a threat. “Prem? Prem!”

The howl of a siren emerged in the background, growing nearer and louder. He had to wake up. He had to be okay. Prem! She could no longer tell if she was screaming out loud or just inside her head. The sound became woven together with the piercing wail of the siren. She saw Mrs. Mandell stand up and retreat. She felt someone pull her up by the shoulders, and she stumbled backwards as two uniformed men took her place at Prem’s side. As they began to work, Karina was led inside the house and ushered to the kitchen table.