“What’s wrong?” I ask, fear grabbing hold of me even before I know why.

“Asthma,” she manages to croak out and then another coughing fit takes a hold of her. Her entire body goes rigid.

“What can I do to help?”

She starts to answer, and I shake my head, then sign the question.

She understands my intention and signs back, Nothing. It’ll pass.

She leans forward slightly, resting one hand against the vanity. Her shoulders are tense, and every breath looks torturous.

It turns out, I’m not good at doing nothing while Sabrina struggles to breathe.

I spot the inhaler clutched in her right hand.

“Did you already take it?” I ask, signing too so she won’t try to talk back.

She nods. I’m okay. My chest feels looser already.

“Should you sit or something?” Aside from the toilet or the edge of the tub, there aren’t a lot of options, so when she nods again, I take her hand and lead her back to my room. It’s closest and I’m not really thinking about anything except getting her comfortable as quickly as possible. I pull the comforter up to make the bed and she sits on the edge.

She has a dazed look that freaks me out.

“Do you want water?”

Sabrina doesn’t respond and I squat down in front of her.

“Hey.” I drop one hand to her bare knee. Her lashes flutter and her gaze moves to where I’m touching her and then up to my face.

Seconds pass while we’re locked in a stare, neither of us speaking or looking away. My pulse races. I have never felt more helpless.

“Do you want water?” I finally ask again, only moving the hand on her knee long enough to sign the question.

She shakes her head and exhales a long, shaky breath, then aims a wobbly smile at me. “I’m okay.”

The more she says it, the less I believe her. Though her breathing seems to be evening out and the scared look on her face is retreating. I doubt she can say the same about mine.