I couldn’t pull in air.
“Derek,” I choked, “I can’t breathe.”
Janice scoffed. “Drama. Always drama.”
My throat tightened completely. Tears spilled—not from sadness, but from panic. I grabbed at the side of the chair, desperate for something steady.
A nurse rushed over and crouched in front of me. “Hey, hey—look at me,” she said firmly. “Slow breaths. In through your nose.”
Janice snapped again, “She’s faking!”
The nurse’s eyes lifted toward her, cold and sharp. “Ma’am,” she said evenly, “you need to lower your voice.”
Janice laughed. “Or what?”
The nurse didn’t raise her tone. She simply pointed up toward the ceiling and said quietly,
“We have cameras.”
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