Aunt Genevieve was sitting on the floor in her bedroom, her cell phone in her hand, tears streaming down her face as she screamed, “My baby! My boy! Tim! Timothy!”
“Aunt Gen, calm down!” Ella begged her, dropping down and wrapping her arms around her aunt’s shoulders, trying to figure out what had happened. “What’s going on?”
Between gasps for breath, Aunt Genevieve began to explain, “That… was… Tim’s… friend… Cody. He said… Tim… drowned. He’s… dead.”
Ella fell backward onto the floor, landing on her bottom, all the blood draining from her face. “What? Tim… drowned?” How could that be possible? She knew Tim wasn’t a strong swimmer. When they were younger, and she’d wanted to play with him in the pool at either her house or his, he’d always stayed in the shallow water, afraid to go too deep. He always said he didn't feel safe in the water, that he was afraid he’d drown. “What happened?”
