I collapse before they reach me. I collapse into a pile of horror, screaming with disbelief. I’m screaming. Brant races toward me, too late to catch me. But he still tries, sliding to his knees and wrapping his arms around me, holding me close as I disintegrate. We sob and we shake, clutching each other while people gather around and the music cuts out, the happy song replaced by my horrible screams. And it’s there on the dance floor, amid balloons and ball gowns, that I have my first full-fledged asthma attack.
