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That’s not the only thing that’s wrong. Her hair is pulled up into a bun, but it looks greasy and frazzled. Her clothes are ill-fitting, like she threw something on in a hurry earlier this morning. Eve looks thinner, her cheeks hollow and her eyes sunken in. Every step she takes is shaky, and every gesture she makes is stiff. She carries all her tension in her shoulders and neck, the tendons there pulled taught beneath her satiny skin.
She’s not smiling.
In fact, she looks miserable.
And then she goes down, too hard and too fast for anyone nearby to catch her. The hard slap of her body against the floor draws everybody’s attention. The music stops. People gasp. From where I’m standing, I can’t tell if she hit her head or not.
Either way, she doesn’t get back up.
Her fellow dancers surround her, looking down at her with concern. I have to all but body check them to the side just to get to her. My heart’s beating so fast I can feel it in my throat.
I suddenly understand those stories of mothers lifting cars off babies. The adrenaline that courses through my veins takes over my senses, gives me tunnel vision. As a doctor, I can understand the effects of adrenaline on a chemical level. But it’s an entirely different thing to actually experience it.
All I can focus on—all I care about—is her.
“Move, move the fuck out of the way,” I shout at the top of my lungs. “Give her some space.”
I kneel beside her and check her pulse, her breathing. They’re both labored and erratic, a huge cause for concern. I try shaking her awake, but to no avail.
“Eve? Eve, can you hear me?”
“What’s happened?” Miss Helen asks as she rushes over.
Tom, who’s standing uselessly to the side, shakes his head. “I don’t know. She just collapsed.”
I resist the urge to roll my eyes.
The Captain Obvious award goes to…
“Call nine-one-one,” I order, getting right down to business.
“Right. Right away.” He scurries off in search of his phone.
I turn to Miss Helen. “Tell your dancers to clear out. We need more space.”
With a swift nod, she does exactly as she’s told. She shoos everybody away, says that classes are over. I don’t hear her exact words, though. I’m too preoccupied with making sure Eve’s all right.
I look Eve over and run through my checklist. There are no signs of blood, but there’s a large bump forming on the back of her head. A thin layer of sweat is painted across her brow, soaking into her hair line. Eve might have suffered a concussion, but there’s no way to tell how bad it is until she comes to.
I pick up her hand and press my fingers to her wrist, calculating her heartbeats per minute. She’s frightfully cold to the touch, a major concern considering she’s been working out. It’s likely that she’s finally pushed herself too far.
“Eve,” I try again. “Come on, Eve. Talk to me. Wake up.”
The paramedics arrive a few minutes later. They come rushing in with a stretcher and a massive first aid kit, dressed in their navy blue uniforms.
The pair of first responders immediately gets to work, checking her over for injuries. “What happened?” one of them asks me.
“She collapsed,” I explain. “I think she hit her head when she fell.”
“Did you observe any strange behavior? Did she complain of dizziness? Nausea?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know.”
“We were in the middle of warm-ups,” Miss Helen pipes up. “She’d been off all morning.”
“‘Off’? What do you mean by that?”
“Eve wasn’t able to keep up with the class. She’s been out sick, but I thought she was feeling better.”
“She didn’t complain of any pain or discomfort?”
“No. Eve never complains.”
The paramedics look at one another.
“We’re taking her to the hospital,” one announces. “We’ll have to run a few tests to make sure she’s okay.”
“Can I come with her?” I ask immediately.
“Do you have any relation to the patient?”
Talk about a loaded fucking question.
I don’t know how to respond. What am I even supposed to say?
We used to be high school sweethearts.
We’ve been screwing ever since I got back to town.
My mother hates that I’m with her.
We’re not exactly boyfriend-girlfriend, but we’re not fuck buddies either.
“I’m the academy’s rehabilitation specialist,” I end up answering.
Good enough.
The paramedic shakes his head. “If that’s the case, I’m going to need you to stay behind and look up her emergency contact. We’ll have to let her family know where she’s going.”
My heart twists in my chest. I don’t like the idea of letting Eve go by herself. What if she wakes up all alone? What if she’s scared? I’m about to protest, but my common sense kicks in.
“I’ll let her mother know,” I tell them.
They move quickly, placing Eve on the stretcher before rolling her out. I can only watch as she disappears from view, every fiber of my being screaming at me to follow.
