“Chase, are you okay?” Transformed from the accusations from a moment ago, Whitstein sounded genuinely concerned.
Chase dragged in a shaky breath. Then another. He let go of the table to clench his bag to his chest.
“I’m sorry I startled you,” Whitstein continued. “But you stopped breathing, and I was concerned. Can you hear me?”
Chase nodded. Despite the pounding in his ears, he could hear Whitstein’s calm, steady words.
“Can you answer me?”
Chase nodded again.
“Verbally?”
He swallowed, inhaled, exhaled, and inhaled again. “Yes,” he finally croaked.
“Good. Are you okay?”
No, no he wasn’t okay. But he clamped harder on his bag and nodded. “I just—” His mouth hung open as he struggled to find a way to explain. He swallowed and tried to wet his parched mouth. “I’m just shocked.” His hand flapped at the screen.
“I can see that. Can you tell me why?”