as they made their way through the bustling terminal. The weight of urgency pressed on Janet’s shoulders, the gravity of the situation evident in Max’s attentive demeanor. Her mind raced with possibilities—a medical emergency, something that needed immediate attention.
“Can you show us where your mommy is?” Janet asked softly, her voice infused with calm reassurance. The boy nodded, sniffling, and led them through a series of corridors, his small hand occasionally reaching out to touch Max’s back as if seeking comfort.
As they moved, Janet’s training kicked in, assessing every detail. The boy’s hesitant steps, the way he held onto Max, and the urgency in his plea painted a vivid picture of fear and desperation. This wasn’t just a child lost in the airport; it was something far more critical, and time was slipping through their fingers.
Finally, they arrived at a quiet corner of the terminal, an area sectioned off with seating for delayed passengers. There, on a lonely bench, lay a woman, her head resting awkwardly against the wall. Her face was pale, and she was unresponsive. A half-opened book had slipped from her grasp, lying forgotten on the floor.
Janet crouched beside the woman, checking for vital signs, while Max stayed close to the boy, providing the silent support only a dog could offer. The woman’s breathing was shallow, and she didn’t respond to Janet’s gentle shakes or her voice calling out.
“Dispatch, this is Officer Miller. I need paramedics at my location immediately. Adult female, unresponsive, shallow breathing,” Janet reported with one hand holding her radio, her other hand checking the woman’s pulse.
The boy watched with wide, frightened eyes, clutching Max’s fur. Janet offered him a reassuring smile, trying to mask her own concern. “It’s going to be okay. The doctors are coming to help your mommy.”
In what felt like both an eternity and mere seconds, the paramedics arrived. Janet stepped back, giving them space to work, yet stayed close enough to comfort the boy. Max, sensing the shift, lay down beside him, his presence a steadying influence.
The medical team quickly assessed the situation, administering oxygen and preparing to transport the woman to the nearest hospital. As the stretcher was brought in, Janet knelt beside the boy again. “What’s your name, sweetie?”
“Oliver,” he whispered, eyes fixed on his mom as the paramedics worked.
“Oliver, you’re very brave. Max and I are going to stay with you, okay? We’ll make sure you’re safe and we’ll find out how your mommy is doing.”
He nodded, a little more at ease with Janet and Max by his side. As the paramedics lifted the stretcher, Oliver reached out, and Janet took his hand, offering the strength of her grip as a promise that he wasn’t alone.
With the paramedics leading the way, Janet, Oliver, and Max followed closely behind, weaving through the terminal that had started its daily buzz. The mission had shifted from routine patrol to a race against time and then to holding space for a frightened child, reminding Janet of the unpredictable nature of her duty—a duty that was more than just law enforcement; it was about humanity and compassion in moments that mattered most.