Vivian's POV
The pool embraced me in perfect silence, the kind that forced unwanted memories to surface. I floated on my back, staring at the ceiling, wishing the water could wash away more than just the day's frustrations.
Swimming hadn't always been my sanctuary. Once, it represented my worst nightmare. When Abby and I were eight, she shoved me into the deep end of our family pool. I thrashed helplessly, water filling my lungs as panic consumed every rational thought. Abby stood at the edge, her laughter echoing off the water while I fought for my life.
The housekeeper's quick intervention saved me, but my mother's reaction still haunts me. She didn't scold Abby for nearly killing me. Instead, she fired the woman who pulled me from the water.
"You should have minded your own business," my mother had hissed at the trembling woman. "Some problems solve themselves."
The message was crystal clear. My mother wouldn't have mourned my death. If anything, she would have celebrated it.
