“You don’t have to apologize for anything.” She held Taiye’s clammy, shaking hands in her own. “He—” “I can’t catch my breath,” Taiye wheezed. “I think you’re having an anxiety attack.” Salomé’s voice was gentle. “Breathe with me, okay?” She took a slow, exaggerated breath, and Taiye mimicked her. Then slowly let it out. They inhaled and exhaled in sync until Taiye calmed down.
