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“Kirill!” I push through the pain in my throat and call out for him. I wade in up to my chest. Deeper up to my shoulders. I’m not a strong swimmer. If I’m not careful, someone will have to come in to rescue me, too. “Kirill!”
Just as I’m about to push off the sand bank to go search for him, I see a dark head rise above the water.
Then I realize he’s clutching a small body against his chest.
My heart leaps. But those hopes are instantly dashed when I realize the little body isn’t moving.
“Kirill,” I whimper. His name carries all of the questions I can’t speak. All of the worries I can’t give voice to.
Suddenly, I understand why Kirill’s name is what Ilya clings to. There’s something strong and dependable about it. Right now, I’m certain—so fucking certain, even though I have no reason to believe this strongly—that he’s going to take care of Brady.
He’ll make this okay.
“I need to get him to the beach,” is all he says. Then Kirill marches past me towards the shore.
I hurry after him, scrambling through the waves and the sand. As soon as Kirill steps out of the water, he drops Brady on the ground and starts doing chest compressions.
“This is all my fault,” I whisper. My entire body is trembling now. The adrenaline is wearing off, leaving room for the terror to edge in. The enormity of what’s happening—of what I’ve done—crashes down on me as Kirill rolls Brady over and pounds on his back.
My nephew is so small compared to Kirill. He looks like a doll in his arms. Pale and lifeless.
“I dropped the shell and he chased it,” Lily mumbles. I didn’t hear her move to stand next to me. For the first time in her life, she isn’t animated and emotive. She’s staring at her brother with wide eyes. “I was throwing it for him to chase. But the shell dropped in the water and he chased it. I waited for him, but he went under water. He didn’t come back up.”
I kneel down and pull her against my chest. “It isn’t your fault, honey. None of this is your fault.”
It’s mine, I think.I did this. I let Brady die.
A sob tries to force its way out of me, but I swallow it back. I have to be strong for Lily.
Then there’s a weak cough.
Lily and I both let go of each other and spin around just as Brady starts to convulse and splutter.
“There you go.” Kirill is patting his back. “Cough it up, kid.”
“Brady!” I drop to my knees next to him, squeezing his arm as he clears his lungs. “You’re okay. You’re okay.”
I repeat the words so many times I no longer know if I’m trying to convince Brady or trying to convince myself. Lily sits down next to her brother, gently patting his back as he coughs up what seems like gallons of seawater. Only when he lifts his head and smiles at her do I finally let myself believe it.
He’s okay.
Kirill stands up and starts to move away, but I lunge out of the sand and grab him. “Kirill, I—”
But before I can get the words out, I stretch on my toes and kiss him.
It’s wet and salty, and I’m not sure if it’s from the ocean or my tears. I press all my gratitude against his lips, letting my body say all the things I can’t.
Then I pull back and look at my feet, suddenly ashamed. “I need to call my sister.”
Kirill picks up his phone from a small bag on the sand I didn’t notice and hands it to me without a word. I tap in Lana’s number.
The phone call is a blur. The fifteen minutes it takes her and Mitchell to get to the beach feels like a second, a nanosecond. It’s like I hang up, turn around, and my sister is already running down the beach towards me, furious tears streaming down her cheeks.
She pulls Brady against her chest, rocking with him on the sand. “Are you okay? Are you hurt? How do you feel?”
Lily is back to her old self now that Brady seems fine. She’s bouncing on her toes to relay the story to her mom before anyone else can.
“There was a shell and Brady dived for it. He went in the water and disappeared.” She’s doing her best to make it dramatic, which isn’t helping my case. Lana looks like she’s going to hurl.
