Page 85 of Breadwinner
“What’s in this sauce?” she asked, grabbing the sleeve of a waiter as they passed by their table. She was panicking now, hands clawing at her throat, and that’s when she saw them—little red bumps had sprung up on her hands and arms in angry red patches.
You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.
The waiter sprinted to the kitchen, and Sarah grabbed for her purse, fingers fumbling the zipper, diving inside to search forthe little red EpiPen she always carried, even though she hadn’t needed it in years. By now, she could barely breathe.
This was not good. This wassonot good.
Her vision began to blur. She knew what was coming next if she couldn’t get to her EpiPen in time. “I—can’t—breathe—” she gasped, looking at Nell, eyes wide, asking for help.
Nell was up and next to her in an instant, yelling something to the waiter before kneeling beside her, hands hovering but not quite touching her. “Sarah!”
Sarah felt the cool surface of the EpiPen tucked away in an interior pocket of her purse just before the floor rushed up to meet her.
The last thing she saw was the look of pure panic on Nell’s face—her cool control gone, replaced by raw fear.
Then everything went black.
SIXTEEN
NELL
RULE #12: NEVER BREAK YOUR OWN RULES.
“Sarah!”Nell yelled, herhands already reaching out to catch her, supporting the unconscious weight of Sarah’s frame before she fully realized what was happening. “Help, I need help!” she yelled.
A second set of hands appeared, helping her lower Sarah’s limp body to the ground as she reached for her purse.
When she had first learned about Sarah’s shellfish allergy, Nell had done her research. She was always careful to make sure something like this never happened when they were together. Every restaurant they’d eaten at and every meal they’d ever shared, Nell had gone out of her way to mitigate this very risk, including today, when she had called ahead to inform the restaurant about the allergy.
Rage welled up inside of her. This shouldn’t have happened.
“She’s having an allergic reaction. She has a shellfish allergy. Call 911,” she barked at the worker who had helped catch Sarah. Her hands found what she was looking for, and she pulled out the cylindrical EpiPen, the plastic of the autoinjector cool in her hands.
Time felt like it was ticking by unnecessarily slow, forcing her to look at Sarah in this state. It was cruel. How long could Sarah be down like this? Her skin was already so pale.
She removed the cap of the injector with shaking hands, trying to recall the instructions of the countless videos she had watched. She chanted the instructions in her head.Position. Press. Wait.
She glanced at Sarah’s face, and a bluish tint was forming at the corners of her mouth. Hives had spread across her ashen cheeks. Nell’s heart was pounding so loudly that she was positive it could be heard all around the greater Seattle area.
“Hold on, just hold on for me, Sarah,” she muttered shakily, as she positioned the autoinjector against Sarah’s thigh. All the instructions had said the injector was powerful enough to go through clothes. Inhaling quickly, she swung her fist, pulled the pen back, and brought it down against her thigh, pressing down on the top of the pen. A loud click filled the air.
“One . . . two . . . three,” she counted out loud, as the medication dispersed.
Her heart was still racing as she massaged the injection site, trying to help the medication disperse faster.
“Ambulance is on its way,” a voice called. She didn’t know who it came from; she only had eyes and attention for Sarah.
Seconds stretched out for an eternity until, finally, Sarah drew in a raw, shaky breath.
“Sarah? Can you hear me?” Nell reached out and cupped her cheek gently, her thumbs brushing over her pale skin as the color started to return. She watched as, slowly—agonizingly slowly—Sarah’s long eyelashes fluttered open, and a soft gasp of air let Nell know Sarah was breathing again.
“Nell?” Her voice was raspy and frightened in a way that didn’t feel like it belonged to someone as powerful as Sarah.
“I’m here,” she assured her, squeezing her hand. “You’re okay. Help is coming.”
Sarah’s eyes were filled with confusion as she came to. She coughed, trying to sit up, but Nell eased her back down. “Stay still until the paramedics get here, please.” She patted her cheek gently. “And don’t you dare scare me like that ever again.” She spoke in a low voice, meant only for Sarah.
“That’s awfully demanding.” Sarah smiled weakly. Even now. Even when she had just gone through the wringer, Sarah still found time to banter with her. Nell loved that.