The air was thick with dread at the Jani Resort, where a tragedy nearly unfolded in the shimmering blue of a swimming pool. A poor child, a mere three-year-old slip of a girl, found herself fighting for life beneath the water's surface for five long, agonizing minutes.

Imagine the scene! The child gasping, the water closing in, while the pool's paid guardians were nowhere to be found. 'Twas only by the grace of Providence and the quick wit of a lady physician, vacationing nearby, that the babe was plucked from the watery grave. For half an hour, the guests labored, pumping the breath of life back into the small, pale body.

But here is where the tale turns truly sour. The ambulance—those desperate harbingers of hope—arrived within seven minutes. Yet, they were met not with open arms, but with closed gates! The administration of this fine establishment dared to bar the way, claiming a lack of proper carriage-paths.

Like common beat-cops chasing a rogue through a slum, the doctors were forced to abandon their carriage and scramble on foot across the grounds to reach the dying child. A scandalous delay! The poor mite now lies in a state of grave peril within the intensive care ward, fighting for every breath.

Of course, the master of the house, one Mr. Anton Vorontsov of 'Jani Crystal', speaks in the polished tongue of the gentry. He claims the healers arrived with haste and the child departed in a state of consciousness. He insists a lifeguard was on duty. Aye, the usual songs of the boardroom!

But the law is now stirring. A criminal case has been opened, and the magistrates shall determine if this was a mere misfortune or a case of criminal indifference. Whether it be the fault of a missing guard or the stubbornness of the gates, the blood cries out for justice.