A chill ran over Zephyr’s body, his grip tightened on his phone. His pulse continued racing. In the backseat of the moving vehicle, he leaned forward, eyes locked onto the driver through the rear-view mirror.
“Sir, please go faster.” He said.
Over the phone, Sylvia's breath was unsteady, etched with panic, and tears.
“Sylvia, I need you to calm down,” Zephyr steadied his attention back on her. “Tell me exactly what happened, is he bleeding, was he hit by a car?”
“No, that's not it,” she stammered. Her voice trembled as she tried to steady her breathing. “He fell into the swimming pool, and drank lots of water. I managed to get him out. But…” A whimper sounded and her voice lowered back into sobbing. “He's not breathing.”
The words hit Zephyr's chest like a rock. He gripped the phone
