The dispatcher’s voice crackled through the phone as Richard relayed the crisis. He struggled to maintain his composure, the weight of the situation pressing on him. The dispatcher promised help was on the way, but the minutes ticked by like hours.
As Richard waited, he checked Maria’s pulse, recalling a long-ago CPR course. Her pulse was weak but present, offering a glimmer of hope amidst the mounting dread. Ethan hovered nearby, his eyes wide with fear and confusion. Richard reached out, gently squeezing the boy’s shoulder.
“It’s going to be okay, Ethan. Help is coming,” he reassured, though internally he was far from certain.
