I. IDHO: YEW
It was Rob. Somewhere close, unmistakable.
“Can you hear me?” he yelled. I was praying, and my eyes jerked wide, but before I could breathe, everything crashed. Breathing, heart rate. We got Katie out, sobbing, screaming. Nurses ran in, carrying pieces of equipment, shoving me back.
I feel heavy and clumsy and useless.
She isn’t breathing, she isn’t warm. Her face is white and tiny.
The line on the monitor is as flat as despair.
They’ve turned off the alarm, but the silence is worse, and Katie is staring at Rosa, over John’s shoulder, knowing their little girl is slipping away.
“Who are all these people, Mac?” she sobs.