I'll Trade Their Futures for My Son's Life

Cory Sullivan, my ten-year-old son, joins a swimming class organized by his school. A bunch of his fellow students end up pinning him to the drain of the swimming pool.

I spot the streak of red in the water and completely lose my mind. I immediately dash over to save Cory, but by the time I do, his face has turned swollen and blue from the suction. Blood trickles from his mouth. He's no longer breathing.

Andy Webster, the ringleader of the trio who hurt Cory, arrogantly declares that he won't be criminally prosecuted because he's a minor.

"So what if I did it? He started getting on my nerves ages ago! Now that he's dead, no one else can compete with me to be the top in our class."

Andy's father, Greg Thompson, condescendingly throws me a debit card. "There's 100 thousand dollars in there. That should be enough to make up for your son's worthless life."

Outrage, I demand justice, but my wife, Sheryl Lowe, stops me.

"Andy's just a kid himself. Are you going to force someone else's kid to lose his freedom just because your own son is dead?"

I stop at nothing in the pursuit of justice, but Andy simply gets sent to a juvenile detention center. That's nowhere near enough for me.

Eventually, I lose all hope. I lie down at Cory's grave and swallow a bottle of sleeping pills.

Suddenly, my eyes open again. I've returned to the day I took Cory to the swimming pool.

I immediately drag him off to take him back home before anything happens, but alas, a young boy still ends up losing his life at the pool.

I'd left in too much of a hurry earlier with my son, Cory Sullivan, so his clothes and bag were still in the locker room.

I told him to wait in the car while I went back to get his things. I figured I'd also inform the pool staff about the safety issues with the pool.

The moment I stepped into the swimming hall, I heard a burst of laughter.

"Don't you think he looks like a dead fish? Move! Why aren't you moving? Hahahaha—"

The laughter from the three boys was grating on the ears. The tallest one, Andy Webster, had his foot pressed down on a patch of blue beneath the water.

The blue swim trunks—which were the same color as Cory's—and the faint reddish tint spreading through the pool made my heart seize. If I hadn't known for sure that Cory was in the car right now, I wouldn't have been able to face a scene like this again.

In my previous life, Andy had been furious that Cory beat him for first place in school and even did better at swimming class than he did. That was why he attacked Cory.

So who was this boy? And why was Andy doing this to him, too?

I dared not dwell on those questions for too long. My priority was to save the boy, so I shouted sternly, "Hold it right there! What do you think you're doing!"

Seeing me, Andy cocked his brows and slowly took a half-step back.

"Look. The old bastard is here to protect his trash of a son. Guess the fun's over."

The other two boys, Ryan Lewis and Ethan Sloan, jumped back in fright, too afraid to meet my gaze.

Meanwhile, the boy in the pool was caught by the powerful suction. Even though Andy had removed his foot, the boy's face was still pressed against the drain. His limbs drifted limply in the water.

That was how I'd found Cory in my previous life. I'd jumped into the water to save him, but the suction had been too strong. I couldn't even pull him away.

By the time the pool staff rushed over and shut the system down, it was too late to save him. My son had died in my arms.

The boy in front of me wore the same blue swim trunks. With that hair and that build… I kept repeating to myself that this wasn't Cory, who was safe in the car right now. Still, my hands trembled uncontrollably.

Having learned from my previous life, I turned to the staff nearby.

"Why are you just standing there? Can't you see that someone's stuck to the drain? Shut off the system now!"

Only then did the pool manager snap out of his daze and immediately call the control room.

A few minutes later, I lifted the boy's limp body out of the water. His face was swollen and distorted beyond recognition. He wasn't breathing. There was no pulse either.

Andy stood off to the side with his arms crossed. He had a faint smile on his face.

"He's the one who said he could hold his breath for three minutes, Mr. Sullivan. We were just helping him."

"Helping him?" My eyes were red-rimmed as I slapped Andy hard. "You call it helping him when you pin him over the drain?"

Cupping his cheek, Andy glared daggers at me. "We were just playing around! How was I supposed to know he was this weak? How dare you hit me! Do you know who my mom is? I can make your whole family pay for this!"

I knew exactly who his mother was. That was why I wanted nothing more than to rip that look of complete nonchalance right off his face.

For the life of me, I couldn't understand why Lena Webster, Andy's mother, chose to marry a worthless piece of trash like Greg Thompson, who ended up raising their son to be a complete monster even at such a young age.

"You call this playing? Who plays like this? This is murder!"

Ryan, the chubby boy nearby, one of the two who'd been helping Andy, finally seemed to realize the gravity of it. His voice trembled as he asked, "Andy, did we—"

He didn't even finish before Andy cut him off. "What are you trying to say? You were pressing down pretty hard just now, too, weren't you?"

Ethan, the other boy, had already broken down in tears.

"I… I want to go home…"

I couldn't be bothered to pay any attention to them right now. I set the boy down on the floor, performing CPR while instructing the staff to call for an ambulance.

"Quick! Call 911 now! It might not be too late to save him!" I cried out.

As I tilted the boy's chin back to give him CPR, I noticed a star–shaped birthmark behind his ear. It jogged something in my head.

Meanwhile, the swim instructor, Walter Higgins, finally came back in with Greg while exhaling the last smoke ring from his mouth.

When he saw the scene by the swimming pool, he was briefly startled. "W-What's going on?"

Andy immediately put on an innocent expression and ran over to Greg, saying, "We were just competing to see who could hold their breath the longest, Dad. He said he could last three minutes! But in the end…"

"How could you be so reckless!" Walter went pale. "How many times have I told you boys not to enter the water when I'm not around?"

"Sorry, Mr. Higgins. I won't do it again. But it still doesn't give Mr. Sullivan the right to hit me, right?" Andy lowered his head to seem contrite, but I saw him smirking at me.

After seeing how red Andy's cheek was, Greg lashed out at me. "How dare you hit my son!"

He shot a disdainful glance at the boy on the floor and me before continuing, "That boy's the one who broke the rules himself. You're his parent, yet you didn't even keep an eye on him. How can you blame anyone else for what happened?"

In my previous life, the surveillance footage had clearly shown how Cory had simply been warming up by the pool when Andy shoved him in from behind. The three boys had dragged him to the drain and pinned him down.

This boy had probably gone through the same thing Cory had.

I knew far too well the pain of losing a child. No matter who this boy was, he was innocent. My priority was still to save him.

I didn't want to waste any of my breath on Greg. Even as I carried on with the CPR, I looked at Walter.

"Mr. Higgins, you're just as responsible for this incident. You should notify the child's parents first."