Page 31 of When Love Is Lost and Found

My blood runs cold.

"We can ask your parents when they come home," says Sharon. “If they say yes, we can go in the pool."

"I'm a good swimmer, huh, Shay-Shay?"

"You are a good swimmer, but you still need a grown-up with you all the time. Never go in the pool alone, ok?"

"Never come down the stairs," Noah says in a whiny voice, "Never go in the pool. I can't do anything."

"You can do everything as long as you have permission and as long as one of us is with you."

"Okay," he says.

"Do you want some breakfast?" Sharon asks Noah but looks at me.

"Are you okay?" she asks.

"Yes, yeah. I'm fine," I say, feeling sweat prickle the back of my neck.

"You look a little pale. Are you sure you're okay?"

"Give me a minute," I say, standing to my feet, which feel like lead. "I'll be right back."

Without waiting another second, I rush to the nearest bathroom down the hall. Once inside, I lock the door and give in to the wave of nausea, tunnel vision, and stone-cold fear taking over my mind and body. I'm in the clutches of a full-on panic attack. My heart is racing, my palms are clammy, and I'm sweating profusely. If I weren't so intimately acquainted with this agony, I'd think I was having a heart attack. I stand over the sink and turn on the cold water, noticing how my hands are shaking. Even the sight of water rising in the sink makes me sick, but I have to do something to get myself under control. I take deep, cleansing breaths several times before splashing cold water on my face. When I look in the mirror, I don't recognize the complete stranger staring back at me.

Chapter 7

Sharon

What the heck just happened?

I tried calling after him, but it all happened so fast.

"Where did he go?" Noah asks, just as confused as I am.

"I think he went to the bathroom," I say, putting a bowl of warm oatmeal in front of him. "Do you want some milk?"

"Yes, please."

After giving Noah a cup of milk, I wait for Jon to return. Five minutes pass, then ten.

"Noah, I'm going to check on your brother. Stay here, okay?"

Before I have a chance to step away, the Linders walk in the door.

"Mommy, Daddy!" exclaims Noah.

"Hi, Sweetheart," says Mrs. Linder, "Hmm, oatmeal, my favorite."

"Has Jon stopped by yet?" asks Mr. Linder, taking a bowl from the cupboard.

"He's in the bathroom," announces Noah.

"He's been in there for quite a while," I say. "I think something upset him."

Mrs. Linder approaches Mr. Linder and whispers something in his ear. I can make out two words: panic attack.

"Stay here with Noah," says Mr. Linder before walking away.

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