She darted out, ended up on Miles’s heels. He came up short outside the women’s room, just pointed. Opal pushed in, found Morgan sitting on the floor, back against a wall, gasping for air. “Slow it down.” She crouched, put her hands on either side of Morgan’s face. “Breathe slow now.” “Can’t. Can’t breathe.” “Yes, you can. Slow. Nice and slow.” “Hurts. Chest hurts.” “Sure it does. Push the air out, nice and slow. Pull it in again. It’s a panic attack, so we’re going to calm right down. That’s it. In and out. My sister used to get these after some asshole jumped her in college. Keep it coming.”
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This was so moving to me. The fact that someone could get over their own self to come to the aid of another. This should be how we all behave. Just pure gracious humanity.
