Page 25 of Festive

She’s trembling, shaking so hard I can feel it through my own body.

“K-Koda,” she stammers, her voice barely a whisper between her ragged breaths. “I c-can’t find t-them. I d-don’t know where t-they are. How could I l-lose them?” Her voice cracks, and it breaks something inside me. “What kind of m-mother a-am I?”

Her words are frantic, her breaths coming in short, panicked gasps, and I feel her collapsing under the weight of her fear. Her hands claw at my club cut like she’s trying to hold on to something solid, something that’ll keep her from spiraling out of control. Her chest heaves, and I hear her struggling, each breath becoming more shallow, more desperate.

I cup her face, my thumb gently brushing away the hot tears that streak her red and blotchy cheeks. “Rebel, you need to calm down. It’s not good for the baby—”

Suddenly, her body stiffens, and her breath catches in her throat. Her eyes widen in sheer panic, and her hands clutch at her chest as she fights for air. She’s hyperventilating, her whole body shaking like a leaf in a gale-force wind. Her lips part, but no words come out, just strangled breaths, and I see the terror inher eyes as her world closes in around her.

Shit.

She’s spiraling.

I know the signs all too well—she’s slipping, losing control, and I have to pull her back.

Now!

I grip her face firmly, forcing her to look at me, and do the only thing that’ll snap her out of it. “Pineapple!” I shout, loud and sharp, straight into her face.

Her eyes snap to mine, wild and confused at first, but then—slowly—she starts to focus. Her chest still rises and falls rapidly, but I control my breathing, making it slow and deep, exaggerated, so she’ll follow me.

“Look at me, Rebel. Breathe with me,” I murmur. Holding her face, my voice softer now but steady, unyielding. Her body trembles in my arms, and I see the internal battle raging in her as she tries to claw her way out of the panic, her breath hitching as she struggles to pull herself back from the edge.

I see the flicker of recognition in her eyes when she locks onto mine.

She’s coming back to me.

“P-pineapple,” she whispers, her voice shaking, but it’s there.

There she is.

I nod, keeping my voice calm, soothing. “That’s it, baby. Breathe. Slowly. In and out.” I guide her, keeping my own breaths measured and deep, my forehead pressed against hers. “You’ve got this. You’re okay.”

She inhales shakily, but it’s longer this time, more controlled. Her trembling starts to ease, and the panic loosens its grip on her. Her arms are still wrapped around me, her grip tight, but her breathing slows, syncing with mine, and I know she’s back.

Not completely, but enough.

“It’s gonna be okay,” I promise, brushing my hand throughher hair, my voice low and steady. “Wewillfind them, Rebel. We’ll find them.”

She nods, tears still streaming down her face, but there’s a glimmer of strength behind her eyes now, a small spark of hope. “P-pineapple,” she whispers again, a shaky smile pulling at her lips. And I drag her even tighter against me, grounding her, as we both take one breath at a time.

She furrows her brows, anxiety sweeping her features. “How can you be so calm—”

“Trust me, Thay, I’m not calm. Not even a little bit. C’mon, let’s try and figure this out. Where has everyone looked?”

She sniffles like she is defeated. “We’ve looked everywhere.”

“In their rooms? In all their hiding spots?”

“Everywhere! In all the nooks and crannies.”

Letting out a long exhale, I turn, glancing around the room, seeing everyone still searching. “Okay, has anyone checked outside the gates to see if they went for a walk?”

Amber rushes up beside us, tears streaming down her face. “I amsosorry, Six. This is all my fault. I was so upset by having to move out that I was moping in my room and packing instead of watching the kids. This is all on me. I will never forgive myself.”

Letting out a huff, I don’t know what to believe when it comes to Amber right now. “We’ll figure it out. They can’t have gotten far.”

Suddenly, Amber’s cell starts ringing, and she pulls it out. “Sorry, Pres, it’s my cousin in New Orleans. Is it okay if I take this?”

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