I’m already doing it, shoving a bundled apron under her legs, adjusting her head so she’s not choking on her own tongue.
“She hit her head when she fell,” I choke out. “There was a crack. I heard it.”
“I know it’s scary,” Theo says calmly. “But if she’s breathing and there’s no seizure activity, she likely fainted. From dehydration, exhaustion, or a drop in blood pressure. Keep her cool. Get a fan on her. Cold rag on her neck. Do you have Gatorade or juice in the kitchen?”
“Yeah.”
“When she comes to, get something with sugar in her. Slowly. But if she doesn’t wake up in the next five minutes, call 911. I’ll be there as fast as I can, but you’re her first line right now. You hear me?”
“I’ve got her,” I say, my voice shaking. “I’ve got her.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Josie
I’m wrappedin a blanket that smells vaguely like dryer sheets and defeat, curled into the corner of my couch with a half-full mug of tea I’ve reheated three times and still haven’t finished.
My head’s pounding with the kind of low-grade ache that feels like it’s been stitched into my bones. Every muscle is sore. Even my eyelids feel tired.
And honestly, I’m still a little humiliated.
“Josie?”
I bolt up a little straighter. Is that…?
“Maya?”
“Tell me you didn’tactuallycollapse in the middle of the kitchen like some damsel in a soap opera.”
I groan. “Don’t remind me. I’m fragile.”
“You passed out at work, Jo,” she says, heels clicking across the hardwood as she steps into view, holding up a bag of soup like a peace offering. “I reserve the right to be dramatic.”
She kicks off her shoes, shrugs off a camel trench coat like she’s walking a runway, and drops beside me with all the grace of a slightly feral cat.
“Don’t worry,” she adds. “I brought soup. Nurse Maya is here to make everything better.”
I laugh. But it’s weak, and somehow, that makes my eyes burn.
She watches me for a second, too quiet. Then she softens.
“Hey,” she says. “Talk to me.”
I stare at the blanket knotted in my lap. “I passed out, Maya.Passed out.In the middle of service, in front of everyone. I took down a full tray of plates and scared the hell out of Knox and… shit, I don’t even know who else was there.”
“Okay,” she says gently. “But you’re okay now?”
I nod, though it doesn’t feel like enough. “The doctor says it was probably exhaustion. Low blood sugar. Maybe dehydration. He told me to rest. Take a few days off. He said my body basically shut itself down because I wouldn’t slow down.”
Maya sighs and leans her head against mine. “Well, thank God itdidshut down before something worse happened. You’ve been running on fumes for weeks.”
“I was trying to keep up. Prove myself. I thought if I just pushed harder,” My throat tightens. “I didn’t want to seem weak.”
She pulls back just enough to look at me. “Josie. Exhaustion isn’t weakness. It’s burnout. It’s your body saying, ‘Hey, maybe we don’t need to be Superwoman today.’” She bumps her shoulder against mine. “Even Beyoncé takes naps.”
I laugh again, shakier this time. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’ve worked kitchens before, when I was in school in Chicago. I’ve had long hours, late nights. But this time I feel like I’m always a step behind. Like no matter how hard I work, it’s not enough.”
Maya arches a brow. “Not enough for who?”
