Page 115 of Frosted Fakes

"Bridget." Julia kept her voice low and calm as she crouched beside the girl's chair. "My name's Julia. I'm a nursing student. Can you hear me?"

Bridget managed a jerky nod.

"Good. You're having a panic attack. It feels terrible, but it's not dangerous. You're safe. I'm going to help you, okay?"

Another nod.

"Darling, I've got this—" Gabby reached for Bridget′s shoulder.

"Mum." Julia didn't raise her voice. Didn't need to. "Step back."

Gabby blinked. "I'm just trying to—"

"You're crowding her." Julia stood, positioning herself between her mother and Bridget. She met Gabby's eyes directly. "Step. Back."

For a moment, nobody moved.

Julia's heart was hammering. Every instinct she'd spent twenty-five years developing was screaming at her to apologize, to soften, to make this easier for her mother. But Bridget was struggling to breathe, and Julia knew what she was doing.

"Please," she added. Not because she was backing down. Because she could be firm and still be kind.

Gabby's mouth opened. Closed. And then, miraculously, she took a step backward.

Julia turned back to Bridget. "Okay. We're going to do something called grounding. Can you name five things you can see?"

"I… the tablecloth. The… the flowers. Your earrings…"

"Good. Keep going."

"The chandelier. The… the menu card."

"Perfect. Four things you can touch."

Slowly, methodically, Julia walked her through the exercise. Her breathing steadied. The color returned to her cheeks. By the time they reached one thing she could taste, Bridget was no longer crying.

"Better?" Julia asked.

"Yeah." Bridget′s voice was hoarse. "I'm so sorry, I don't know what…"

"Don't apologize. It happens." Julia caught the eye of a woman at Gabby's table who looked vaguely competent. "Can you take Bridget somewhere quiet for a few minutes? Just until she feels ready to come back."

The woman nodded and helped Bridget to her feet. As they moved toward the exit, Bridget glanced back and mouthed thank you.

Julia exhaled.

She didn't look at her mother. Didn't acknowledge the stares from nearby tables. Just walked back to her seat, slid into her chair, and reached for her water glass.

Her hands were shaking.

Elliott's hand covered hers under the table. When Julia finally looked up, Elliott was watching her with an expression that made Julia's chest ache.

Pride. Pure, undisguised pride.

"Show-off," Elliott murmured.

"Shut up."

"You were incredible."