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“Thank you,” she squeaks and drinks more water.
“Now take deep breaths.” Ana drags in a breath to do it with her. “Now the water again.”
I stare in amazement at how she’s captured my daughter in this rhythm, and how Sophie begins breathing normally.
With her against my chest, I get to my feet, feeling Ana’s hand on my arm, helping me.
“Give us some space,” she snaps at the people who have gathered around us, her voice strong and protective.
Holding my daughter, I stare at Ana, baffled.
A spoiled Bratva princess isn’t supposed to care about anyone but herself.
“I hope I didn’t hurt her.” She strokes Sophie’s ponytail.
“She’s fine.” I hug my daughter tighter, but then gently pull her chin to me. “Sophie, what happened?”
“I… I don’t know.” She clears her throat and leans her head on my shoulder again.
My eyes find the woman who called out to me, holding a cupcake wrapper that’s not ours.
“I think she mixed up the cupcakes she brought with another batch,” she says.
I remember putting hers down, not thinking someone would set up another tray next to it. I don’t blame shit on other people. That’s a waste of time. My daughter is seven. This was an accident and would have been disastrous if…
If Anastasia hadn’t shown up with her meds. And had the emotional control that vanished from me when faced with my daughter in distress.
“It’s good your nanny showed up with her EpiPen,” another mom says to me, rubbing Sophie’s back.
“She is not my…” I trail off, watching Ana linger near the door. “Yeah, it was good that she showed up.” I smile to the mother and walk that way, still holding Sophie.
I meet Ana at the door.
“Thank you,” I say to her, feeling like an ass that it’s taken that long.
“You’re welcome.” She smiles at my daughter. “How do you feel, Soph?”
“I’m tired.”
I nod, knowing the effects of an attack. She must be wiped out.
“Do you want to go home, honey?”
“I feel bad.” Her voice is low.
“For what?” My heart breaks, hearing her so sad.
“I ruined the party.”
“You didn’t ruin the party, sweetie,” Ana jumps in. “Look.”
I turn around and sure enough, all the little girls have gone back to the painting table, eating snacks.
“See.” I hold Sophie tighter. “Do you want to stay?”
“I want to go home.” She snuggles against me.
Nodding, I say, “Then we’ll go home.”
