Robert's body convulsed once, twice, great spasms whipping through
his chest and limbs. Raven paused, watching, as my son's eyes
snapped open to reveal his panic. He sat bolt upright, wheezing
violently, fingers clawing at his neck and throat.
Raven grabbed his hands before they could do any damage, using them
as leverage to shake Robert's body. “Just breath,” he shouted,
but all to little effect. Robert's head turned left and right in
panic as he tried to gulp air.
“Do something,” my wife shouted at Raven, “For god's sake help
him.”
That's when I noticed Fiona's body twitching as shuddering retches
rolled through her, a trickle of bile escaping the corner of her
mouth. I took a step toward her, kneeling down to rub her back.
“There, there, girl,” I said as gently as I could, “Try to take
it easy.”
