Page 17 of Angel
Relieved to have an answer as to what to do, I hurried back to Paige. It had been years since I took that CPR course in high school, but it all came back to me as I worked frantically to save her.
Chest compressions. Two quick breaths.
The pulse in her neck told me she still hung on.
I checked for breathing. Nothing.
Come on, Paige. Not now. Not when I’ve just found you.
She couldn’t be dying. It just wasn’t fair.
Adrenaline pulsed in me. I wasn’t going to lose her. Hell no.
More chest compressions. Another head tilt and a deep breath. And then I felt it. Her exhale on my lips.
“Paige?”
Her eyelashes fluttered.
At the same time sirens filled the air.
I hopped up and ran as fast as I could to the front door. Two paramedics rushed up the drive.
“This way,” I told them, directing them down the hallway to where Paige lay.
I let them go first and then rushed after them. Paige lay where I had left her, but her head moved slightly to the side. Was she waking up?
“What’s her name?” the female paramedic asked.
“Paige,” I thickly replied. “That’s her inhaler next to her.”
“Paige? Can you hear me?”
Her eyes still closed, Paige garbled something unintelligible in response. I sighed in relief. At least she was conscious now.
The paramedics helped her sit up while I hung back. She put her palm to her face like she had a headache.
While the female paramedic checked Paige out and helped her get a hit from the inhaler her male counterpart questioned me on what had happened. I gave him the story from beginning to end. Everything I could remember, I shared.
“It looks like you saved her,” he replied. “We’ll get her to the emergency room. She needs to be checked out.”
“All right,” I nodded. “I’ll follow you there.”
I smiled at Paige encouragingly, but she looked so out of it, it seemed she didn’t even notice me there.
One of the paramedics retrieved a stretcher and they took her away, talking to her and crowding my view.
Eager to get to the hospital, I went back into my room to dress. Throughout the chaos, I’d been wearing a pair of striped boxers. Hopefully the paramedics had seen people in less.
On the drive to the hospital I called my brother.
“Dominic,” I started, the second he answered.
A moment passed. Dominic wasn’t an early riser. Then, “Yes?”
“I need to talk to you about Sophia.”
Another moment, this one longer, passed.
