Page 8 of Wild

"Again," the doctor insists. "One in, two out…"

Mia tries, and what comes out is a trembling sigh that doesn't quite fill her lungs all the way, but Erin never stops looking at her and nodding as if she's doing it perfectly.

"Keep going. Look at me and focus on my breath. Come on, sweetheart, you can do this."

The singer breathes in, and this time she manages to go deeper. Erin feels the hand resting on her chest press its fingertips against her, and then she lets the air out slowly so Mia can follow.

"That's it. Again."

They do it at least ten times, and on the next breath Mia's shoulders start to come down. Her breathing steadies, and she can finally swallow without choking. Her gaze, locked on Erin's gray eyes through the whole thing, begins to truly focus, and the moment the singer actually registers where she is, what happened to her, and where it happened, Erin watches vulnerability move through her in a single wave—she can feel Mia's fear, can see how exposed she is right now—and so the doctor presses Mia's hand more firmly against her chest.

"Easy, everything's okay," she whispers, and Mia sucks in a sharp breath and lets it out in pieces.

Erin holds her gaze for several seconds that hang in the air with a strange charge to them, but she sets that aside—she doesn't know what to call it and doesn't try—and stays focused on her patient.

"Hi," the doctor says, offering a small smile when Mia blinks again and seems more present.

"Hi," Mia finally answers, her voice pretty rough.

"Do you know where you are?"

Mia nods, feeling information flooding back all at once.

"The Garden."

"What day is it?" Erin asks.

"Friday. I don't know the date."

"She never does," Noah offers. He has one hand on his own chest, as if he'd been doing the breathing exercises right along with them.

Erin glances at him and nods.

"I don't need the date, the day works." She turns back to Mia. "Does anything hurt?"

"Yes and no. Everything hurts a little, but not bad."

"Okay. Are you dizzy?"

The singer nods.

"A little."

"You might be for a while still. We're going to take you to the hospital, all right? It's just protocol," she adds, so Mia won't panic. "I don't think anything serious is going on, but you passed out and we need to know why."

"It's not the first time," she hears, and turns toward the guy who has just come to stand beside her, his tangled hair falling across his forehead as he stares at Mia.

"I'm fine, Noah," the singer whispers, trying to smile.

Noah makes a face and huffs, moving around to the other side of the gurney so he can take his friend's hand. It's only then that Erin realizes she still has Mia Wilder's other hand trapped between her own and her chest, so she eases it away and lays it gently over Mia's stomach before checking her pulse again, listening with the stethoscope, and getting everything ready to start an IV line.

"You said it's happened before," Erin says to Noah as she preps for the needle. "How many times?"

"Four or five in the last few months, maybe six."

"You don't have to look away," Erin murmurs, about to insert the needle.

"It doesn't scare me," Mia says.