Chapter 3: The Longest Minute
One. Two. Three. Four.
The rhythm was the only thing keeping me sane.
I had been trained for this. I had done this on grown men weighing two hundred pounds, wearing full body armor, in the middle of a firefight. But doing it on my own daughter? It felt like trying to fix a Swiss watch with a sledgehammer.
“Come on, Lily,” I gritted out. “Come on.”
The school nurse finally arrived, sprinting across the grass with an orange box in her hand. The AED.
“Move!” she shouted, not caring who I was. She dropped to her knees beside me.
I didn’t stop compressions. “She’s not breathing. No pulse.”
The nurse ripped open Lily’s shirt. Buttons flew off.
She slapped the pads onto Lily’s tiny chest. One on the upper right, one on the lower left.
The machine whirred to life. A robotic voice cut through the panic.
Analyzing heart rhythm. Do not touch the patient.
I threw my hands up and rocked back on my heels, gasping for air. My entire body was shaking.
“Everyone back!” the nurse yelled.
The coach was still standing there, looking like a ghost. He was muttering to himself, “I didn’t know. I swear, I didn’t know.”
I looked at him, and for a split second, I wanted to hurt him. I wanted to finish what I started when I tackled him. But the robotic voice spoke again.
Shock advised. Charging.
My eyes locked on Lily’s face. She looked so peaceful, like she was just sleeping. But she was blue. That terrible, unnatural shade of blue.
Press the orange button now.
The nurse pressed it.
Lily’s body convulsed. Her back arched off the dirt, then slammed back down.
Silence.
“Check pulse,” the nurse ordered.
She pressed two fingers to Lily’s neck. I held my breath. The world narrowed down to the nurse’s face.
A second passed. Then two. Then an eternity.
“I have a pulse!” the nurse shouted. “It’s weak, but it’s there. She’s trying to breathe.”
A sob ripped out of my chest. I scrambled forward, grabbing Lily’s hand. It was cold.
“Daddy’s here,” I wept, kissing her knuckles. “Daddy’s got you.”
Sirens wailed in the distance. They were getting louder.
Suddenly, a shadow fell over me.
I looked up to see Principal Vance. I knew her from the Zoom meetings we’d had before I deployed. She looked horrified. Her gaze darted from Lily to me, then to the coach.
“Mr. Miller?” she gasped, recognizing me despite the dirt and the uniform. “Oh my god. Is she…”
“She’s alive,” I growled, standing up slowly. My legs felt like lead. “But no thanks to him.”
I pointed a shaking finger at the coach.
Principal Vance turned to the coach. Her face went from shock to a cold, hard fury.
“Coach Henderson,” she said, her voice trembling. “Did you make her run?”
“She… she was lagging behind,” the coach stammered. “I thought she was just being difficult. You know how kids are…”
“You know she has a 504 plan!” Vance screamed, losing her composure entirely. “It’s in red ink on your clipboard! Cardiac condition! No sustained running!“
The coach looked down at the clipboard he was still clutching. He flipped the cover page.
There it was. A bright red sticker. MEDICAL ALERT.
He hadn’t even looked.
The sirens were deafening now. An ambulance tore across the grass, tearing up the soccer field.
Paramedics swarmed us. They pushed me back gently.
“Sir, we need room.”
I stepped back, feeling helpless. I watched them load my little girl onto a stretcher. They put an oxygen mask on her face. It covered almost her entire head.
“I’m riding with her,” I said. It wasn’t a question.
“Family only,” the paramedic said.
“I’m her father,” I said, pointing to the name tape on my chest. “Miller.”
He nodded. “Get in.”
As I climbed into the back of the ambulance, I looked back at the field one last time.
May you like
The principal was screaming at the coach. The other kids were crying.
And Coach Henderson was standing there, staring at his hands, realizing he had almost become a murderer because he was too lazy to read a piece of paper.
