She pulls him out, and his face is purple. She holds him in her arms and brings him close to her chest. She can feel him trembling as he struggles for breath. "Shannon?" she says. "I'm sorry, baby. I'm sorry. Mommy didn't mean to leave you. Mommy went to get the phone. Mommy's here now, Shannon. Mommy's here."
Suddenly he comes to life, inhaling a huge gasp of air, his cries as loud and meaningful as he can make them.
"Shannon," Rosemary says again, the sound of his name echoing through all the years.