Diana CPR

Diana placed two fingers on the girl’s sternum, then tracked lower to what she hoped was the right spot.  She locked her hands together and pressed.  The girl’s bones bent beneath her palms.  Hurriedly, Diana drew back.  What was this girl made of, anyway?  Balsa wood?  She felt about as solid as the little models of world monuments Diana had been forced to build for class. Gently, she pressed down again, then again.  She shut the girl’s nose with her fingers, closed her mouth over cooling mortal lips, and breathed.
The gust drove into the girl’s chest, and Diana saw it rise, but this time the extra force seemed to be a good thing.  Suddenly the girl was coughing, her body convulsing as she spat up salt water.  Diana sat back on her knees and released a short laugh.  The girl was alive.