“You are having a flashback, Whitfield,” I drew each word out. “We aren’t in a fire, okay?” “Jax, put me down.” Her voice was firmer now and her body tensed. She strained against my grip. “Settle down.” “Put me down!” “Fine. I’m setting you down. I want you to realize that you’re talking. You’re breathing. There is no smoke. Just breathe, baby.”
