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He points to his chest, “Me?”

“Do it now.” My voice stays light and friendly for Ian’s benefit while my eyes narrow, sending Uri a clear warning not to fuck this up.

Pressing Ian’s back to my chest I change the subject. “What superpower would you want to have?”

“Flight,” he says between gasps, the pain in his arm overtaking his terror from the allergic reaction.

“That’s a good one. But you need to make sure you have a really warm suit because it gets cold, especially if you go fast.”

Ian is quiet for a second. “I didn’t know that.” His breathing slows, though it’s still a struggle. “What about you, Uncle Dimitri?”

“Teleportation,” Dimitri responds right on cue. “All the benefits of flight, but you don’t need a sweater.”

Ian makes a choking sound—his body’s best attempt at a laugh. “What about you, Ms. Katya?”

“Telepathy,” I say softly. “So I can use it to make people feel better.”

He nuzzles against me. “You already have that power.”

“Did you know your family has superpowers?” I ask in a melodramatic whisper.

He tries to twist around in my arms, but I squeeze him to keep him still. “What?”

At this point, more people are watching us, their morbid curiosity silencing them. “Yeah,” I continue, “your grandfather has the power to make even the bravest man afraid.”

His grandfather steps out of the crowd and smiles at him. It’s the softest expression I’ve ever seen from him.

“But you have a power too,” I whisper in Ian’s ear.

“Yeah?” His breathing sounds less strained as the antihistamine and exhaustion do their job.

“You are the only one who can stop an entire party of superheroes and make them scared.” I squeeze him gently. “And that’s pretty amazing.”

The napkin is saturated with blood, but Dimitri is already on it. He swaps out one napkin for another.

“Who’s the best Ninja Turtle?” I ask. Ian is about to answer when I add, “Look, there’s a right and wrong answer here. Choose carefully.”

“Um, red. Orange. Purple. Blue,” he answers, breathing deeply between words.

I squeeze his tiny body. “Excellent choice. The blue one is super lame.”

His mother pushes through the crowd, her terror evident. She swoops in and kneels in front of Ian. “What happened?”

“I ate something, my throat got really itchy, and I couldn’t breathe.”

Dimitri fills her in on the rest. “He fell into the glasses, got cut up a little bit.”

She wrings her fingers together, her fear spreading to Ian. I can feel his tiny heart pounding against my arm as I hold him close. His mother moves to reach for him, but Dimitri stops her. “He’s safe here. Don’t try to move him.”

“Why was there food he was allergic to? Who let that happen?”

I understand why his mother is concerned but she needs to be reminded, “None of that is as important as making sure the most powerful kid in the world feels safe.”

Ian lifts his chin and beams. “That’s me.”

She pulls back and forces a fake smile—one of those mom smiles meant to reassure everyone that everything is okay, even when it’s not. Ian is losing too much blood, and we all know it. Dimitri switches the napkin for a third time, the crimson stains spreading faster.

Uri pushes his way through the crowd. “The ambulance is here.”