CHAPTER 70

Choke.

I can't breathe because of the object in my throat.

I struggle, whimpering, but no part of me wants to move.

I need to notify someone that something is suffocating me in my throat, but I can't move.

My right arm is lightly squeezed by a hand. "It's okay," says a masculine voice.

It's not acceptable! Something is scratching my throat, and I want to scream. And it's suffocating me.

Hands press against my back, talking to me in a voice I should recognize. The black hole returns to take me away before I can connect the voice to a face.

* * * "...for observation." Her arm..."

The monster in my throat has vanished, but the mask clamped tightly around my mouth is blowing

cool, strange-tasting air into me.

I shift my attention away from the mask and onto what is genuinely important: the people in my room, because the doctor must be speaking to someone, and that someone is not me.

The masculine voice is sharp and unusual. It's not one I've heard before, but the confidence and assurance