“Breathe.” Justin took his hand. Squeezed. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly as if demonstrating the process. “Just breathe.”
“Telling someone to breathe when they’re having an anxiety attack is about as helpful as telling someone to calm down when they’re angry,” Thom hissed.
“You’re right, I’m sorry.” Justin managed to sound sincere and not angry that Thom had snapped at him, which made him, in Thom’s opinion, worthy of sainthood. “Let’s try something else. What makes what you’re feeling at this moment any different from how you’ve felt before?”
“I don’t know.”
“Have any of the physical aspects changed? Severity-wise or maybe a different spot?”
Thom shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“Okay, then—”
“All rise…” The bailiff’s voice shut them both up.
“Come on, boys,” Marian s
