Camilla
Ava was strong now, giggling earlier in the day as she showed off her new doll to Marta. It was as if nothing had occurred, as if she hadn't been hauled, limp and gasping, from the ocean only days previously. But the thought of her little body laying in the hospital bed tormented me.
I could still hear the monitor's constant beeping and saw the oxygen mask covering her little face. The doctor had told me that she would recover entirely, but no amount of assurances could remove the guilt eating at me.
I had failed her.
Who should I blame? Myself, for not looking at her properly? Marta, who had been too engrossed by her phone to see Ava going near the pool? Or the personnel at the park, who hadn't thought to construct a barrier around the water?
I wanted to yell at a
