The Nurse Biker touched his forehead.
Then listened near his chest.
“Call.”
The Biker Leader already had his phone out.
“Emergency medical services.”
The girl stood in the doorway.
Fear paralyzed her.
“Is he dying?”
The Nurse Biker looked at her.
“No.”
She did not promise what she could not know.
“He needs help breathing.”
The little girl started crying.
“I tried.”
The Nurse Biker turned.
“You did.”
“I gave him water.”
“You did good.”
“I put the wet towel.”
“Good.”
“He wouldn’t eat.”
“That wasn’t your fault.”
The boy coughed weakly.
The Nurse Biker found the nebulizer machine beside the mattress.
Empty vials.
She looked through the supplies.
Then found a rescue inhaler inside a plastic bin.
She checked the label and expiration.
Still valid.
“Has he used this?”
The girl nodded.
“Yesterday.”
“How many times?”
“I don’t know.”
The Nurse Biker did not administer more without a clear safe count.
Sirens approached.
The little girl’s panic increased.
The Biker Leader stepped into the hallway with her.
“Listen to me.”
She looked up.
“Those people are coming to help his breathing.”
“Police too?”
“Maybe.”
“I don’t want them to take us.”
“I know.”
She gripped his vest.
That surprised him.
Small fingers wrapped around old leather.
“Don’t let them split us up.”
The Biker Leader looked at her.
He had spent his life hating promises he could not keep.
So he gave her the strongest truth available.
“I’m staying with you while we figure out what happens next.”
The paramedics arrived.
Two.
Then four.
They moved quickly.
The little boy received oxygen.
A breathing treatment.
Temperature.
Pulse.
One paramedic asked questions.
The girl tried answering all of them.
The Nurse Biker gently interrupted.
“Let me.”
The Biker Leader saw relief cross the child’s face.
Someone else was finally carrying the information.
Then came police.
One officer.
A woman.
Calm.
No hand near her weapon.
She took one look at the children and understood the tone required.
“What’s your name?”
The little girl answered.
The officer crouched.
“Your brother is going to the hospital.”
The girl immediately said, “I’m going too.”
“Yes.”
That surprised everyone.
The officer continued.
“And we’re going to find your mom.”
The girl stared.
“She’s at work.”
“Maybe.”
The child repeated it with more force.
“She’s at work.”
The Biker Leader noticed something.
Belief had become defense.
If the mother was at work, then she had not left.
If she had not left, the family was still what the little girl believed it was.
The Biker Leader did not challenge that.
The paramedics carried the little boy downstairs.
The little girl followed.
The Nurse Biker went with her.
The Biker Leader and Vice President remained in the apartment with the officer for several minutes.