The paramedic pauses and looks at me with a raised brow. I make my eyes as pathetic as possible, trying to silently communicate my cry for help. Her quick assessment of the situation makes me believe in humanity again because she barrels toward me with her bag in her hand.
“Move away,” she orders to the coffee douche. “I need to get to the patient.”
“She was fine a second ago,” he grits out, crossing his arms over his chest.
She regards him with squinted eyes. “It’s a delayed response. Happens with trauma patients all the time.”
“Let’s move away and let her work,” the cop urges the douche, who obeys while shooting daggers my way.
When they both are out of earshot, the paramedic presses the oxygen mask to my face.
“Do you know him?”
I nod.
“Is he abusing you?” Her face turns hard.
“No!” I cry out—quietly—right into the mask and then pull away. “No, he’s not my boyfriend or anything,” I explain quieter. “Just a rude customer who comes here to get his coffee. Very rude,” I add with a trembling lip.
The paramedic quickly glances at him. “He looks angry.”
I sigh. “It’s his building apparently. And now it’s burnt, but it’s not my fault.”
“Yeah, they’ll shut it down for sure for now.” Her dark, watchful eyes move to mine. “Are you afraid of him?”
“No,” I sigh again, thinking if I should explain to her what’s really going on. “He wants to press charges. For the fire.” I sniffle. “And I can’t pay for a lawyer now. Or even a phone call to one to get out of jail.” I look at her. “Will they put me in jail now?” I quickly grab the mask from her hands and start breathing into it, feeling all air being sucked away from my lungs. “I can’t go to jail.”
I start breathing rapidly, my fingers digging into the mask. My heart rate accelerates, trying to break my ribcage from the inside.
“Relax,” she starts with a calm tone. “I don’t think the fire was your fault. I heard the guys talk, and they think it’s a wiring problem. You just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time.”
I pause. “Really?”
“Yeah.” She nods.
“But they won’t know that now, right? So I go to jail either way.” I side-eye the douche who’s watching me without blinking.
“No, they won’t,” she confirms. “There will be an investigation.”
I feel it’s the second time for the past hour that my soul is about to leave my body. I am going to jail.
“Do you want to be admitted to the hospital?” she suddenly asks, bringing hope back into my life.
“No,” I reply weakly. “I don’t have insurance.”
“I think you should be admitted to the hospital.” Her firm voice makes me look at her eyes. “You have elevated bloodpressure, and you might have suffered from too much smoke inhalation.”
If she isn’t giving me a break right here, I don’t know what it is.
“Yes!” I nod rapidly, coughing loudly on the way. “I think I’m having palpitations.”
“That you are.” She smiles.
5
Ezra
“Where are you taking her?” I ask the same paramedic who shouldered me out of the way. She’s moving the pink-haired arsonist on a gurney toward the exit.
