At that moment, all the guilt in the world fell upon my shoulders, and the tears I had been holding back came to the surface. As quickly as my trembling legs allowed, I pulled her out of the bathtub.

She wasn't breathing.

I noticed that her chest, neck, and arms were more bruised than before. There were drops of blood on some of them. She had hurt herself during the bath at some point.

I started to revive her the way I was taught in my nursing course, which I had taken out of boredom a relatively long time ago, but now proved to be the most useful thing I had ever learned. Her pale face showed no reaction. I began to cry louder.

Then a choking sound came from her throat. Following the teachings to the letter, I placed her on her side. She choked even more and started to spit out water, a lot of water. Seeing her thrashing and gasping for oxygen was one of the most horrible things I have ever witnessed in my life. I held her head so she wouldn't hit the floor and silently thanked all the supernatural and powerful forces that govern the world for allowing me to save her a second time.

Respectfully, without leaving my place, I reached out for the robe and placed it over her to cover her nudity and protect her from the cold.

The words I had said to Donovan echoed in my mind. She had indeed tried to go through with the suicide.

As the girl trembled, now able to breathe, I made a decision. Breakfast would have to wait. She needed a hospital.

Silently, I picked her up and looked at her. My eyes stung from the tears, and I didn't try to hide them.

She didn't look back at me. I think she couldn't even see properly.

I took her to the bedroom and did my best to dress her without scaring her. I tied her wet hair in a bun and put on a pair of my slippers on her. They were a bit too big, but I would buy another pair. I would spend whatever money was necessary so that she would never, ever try that again.

I laid her down. She still wasn't making eye contact with me but maintained that vacant expression.

"I..." I began, clearing my throat immediately afterward. My voice was terribly shaky. "I'm taking you to the doctor now. We can eat at the hospital."

What do you say to someone who just drowned in a bathtub? What do you say when you're the person who stopped them from getting what they wanted? Did she hate me for saving her? My fingers were still trembling a lot. I would never forget this, not in a million years.

"I'll change my clothes really quickly, I promise. It's okay. I'll be right back."

I left the door wide open this time. I ran up the stairs to my room to get a change of clothes, dressed even faster, and came back. As I thought, she remained lying down. She hadn't moved an inch.

The sound of the toaster went "ding." I ran to the kitchen to get the toast, spreading the slices on a random plate on the table. I returned to the guest room. My tremors had lessened, but in my mind, if I blinked wrong, she might collapse again and kill herself before my eyes. I approached her inert form slowly.

"I'm going to take you now. I'll need to carry you."

Her eyes widened. I continued:

"You just... You just drowned and you're very weak," the words came out with difficulty. "I don't know how much water you swallowed. The doctors can do a more detailed examination. I'll take you to the same hospital I've been going to for six years. They'll take care of you."

I saw her fingers gripping the bed sheets. Seconds of tension.

I got a little closer. I spoke as calmly as I could:

"I'll be with you the whole time. You won't be alone."

As if I had said the magic words, she looked directly at me. I gasped at seeing every detail of her face, how panicked she was. I really wanted to hug her, but I couldn't. So I just looked back at her.

I reached out to pick her up, expecting resistance. She tensed up but didn't make any move to pull away. She probably didn't even have the strength to try.

Once in my arms, the girl let out a murmur of pain. I felt new tears springing up as I told her:

"It will pass. It will pass."