“She’s pretending not to be.”
“And you?”
Chloe looked out the window.
“I’m pretending too.”
Rayan knew that kind of courage.
The type performed entirely for someone else.
Before he could respond, a scream came from six rows behind them.
Not a frightened scream.
A mother’s scream.
“My son!”
Chloe moved instantly.
One second she was exhausted.
The next, she was standing.
“What happened?”
A little boy, perhaps seven, was slumped sideways in his seat.
His face had turned frighteningly pale.
His mother shook him.
“He can’t breathe!”
Chloe pushed through the aisle.
“Everyone move.”
There was such authority in her voice that people obeyed.
The flight attendant rushed forward.
“Is there a doctor onboard?”
“I’m a pediatric nurse,” Chloe said. “Get the emergency kit. Oxygen too.”
She knelt beside the boy.
“Sweetheart? Can you hear me?”
No answer.
She checked his pulse.
His breathing.
Then she saw swelling around his mouth.
“Allergy?”
His mother nodded frantically.
“Peanuts. But he didn’t eat anything.”
“Does he have an EpiPen?”
“In his backpack!”
Someone grabbed it.
Empty pocket.
Another.
Nothing.
The mother began sobbing.
“I put it there.”
Chloe’s voice sharpened.
“Emergency kit!”
The flight attendant returned.
Chloe tore it open.
Her hands no longer trembled.
Rayan stood watching from the aisle.
She drew medication.
Measured carefully.
“What’s his weight?”
“Fifty-two pounds.”
Chloe calculated instantly.
She administered the medication.
Placed oxygen.
Monitored his pulse.
Seconds stretched.
The boy’s mother whispered prayers through tears.
Then the child coughed.
Once.
Twice.
His eyes fluttered.
His mother collapsed forward.
Chloe caught her.
“He’s responding.”
The cabin erupted in relieved breaths.
“Keep him upright.”
The boy looked at Chloe.
“Hurts.”
“I know, buddy.”
Her voice transformed.
The commanding nurse disappeared.
In her place was someone gentle enough to make a frightened child believe the world was safe.
“Remember what superheroes do after something scary?”
The boy shook his head.
“They breathe.”
He took a shaky breath.
“Again.”
Another.
“That’s it.”
Rayan watched her.
Something uncomfortable formed beneath his ribs.
Admiration was dangerous.
It distorted judgment.
But the woman who had been too exhausted to keep her own head upright had become completely steady the instant someone else needed her.
Twenty minutes later, the boy was stable.
The captain announced they would receive medical assistance after landing.
Chloe returned to her seat.
She looked even more exhausted than before.
Rayan handed her the water.
She drank.
“You saved him.”
“I did my job.”
“You were not at work.”
“Kids don’t care where you clocked in.”
Rayan looked at her for several seconds.
“You say that as though it should be obvious.”
“It should be.”
His phone vibrated.
Chloe’s did too.
She looked at the screen.
Whatever color remained in her face disappeared.
