“Save my mother!” the CEO’s daughter screamed, and the security guard displayed remarkable skill.
Ajay Kumar dropped his bag and ran toward the girl. “Where is your mother?” he asked, gently grasping Asha’s trembling little shoulders. The girl looked at him with fear and desperation in her eyes.
“Floor… 15th… Mom has fallen and can’t breathe.”
Which floor?” Ajay asked in a calm voice, his mind racing with possibilities.
“15th,” the girl said hesitantly. “Please… please help my mother.”

Ajay stood up and ran toward the elevator. He heard the receptionist behind him call for an emergency call, but he knew it would take time—and time is all anyone has in such a situation.

“What’s your name?” he asked, repeatedly pressing the elevator buttons.

“Asha,” the girl replied, running toward him. “Asha Kapoor—the Kapoor family.”

Ajay knew. Everyone in this building knew her. Vidya Kapoor, CEO of Kapoor Enterprises, managed the company’s operations from the 12th to the 20th floors.

A powerful woman, feared and respected. And now, before them was this child in a terrifying situation.

The elevator opened and Ajay stepped inside, Asha following him. “Asha, tell me exactly what happened.” Ajay said, his voice calm but authoritative. It was the same voice he hadn’t used in five years, the voice of his past life.

“We were leaving Mom’s office, for lunch… and suddenly… Mom said she felt strange… she put her hand on her chest and said it was hurting, then she collapsed and couldn’t breathe,” Asha said hesitantly.

Ajay’s brain, the part he had suppressed for five years, immediately activated. Possibilities raced through his mind like a medical algorithm: heart attack, pulmonary embolism, artery dissection, severe arrhythmia.

The elevator door opened on the 15th floor, and Ajay ran with Asha. The girl finally pointed to the office.

There, near his office, Ajay ran faster and then he saw Vidya Kapoor. She was lying on the floor, “CEO Vidya Kapoor” written in golden letters on the glass door of her office. She was about 38 years old, with dark hair, Dressed in a neatly dressed, gray office suit—probably more expensive than Ajay’s annual salary.

But his power and prestige were now insignificant. Hands crossed over his chest, labored breathing, lips slightly blue. Two assistants stood nearby, clearly nervous, unsure of what to do.

“Step back!” Ajay ordered, and both immediately retreated.

He knelt beside Vidya and assessed her condition. Difficulty breathing, blue around the lips, sweat on his forehead, hands on his chest. It was likely a cardiac emergency.

“Madam, can you hear me?” he asked, taking her hand and checking her pulse. Very fast and irregular.

Vidya looked at him with a mix of pain and confusion.
“You… who are you?”

“I’m Ajay. I’ll help you. Are you taking any medication?”

Vidya tried to speak, but coughed. Ajay noticed the blue color was increasing.

“Mom!” Asha yelled, trying to get closer, but an assistant stopped her.

“Asha, your mother will be fine, but you have to stay here. Okay?” Ajay said, not taking his eyes off Vidya.

He looked at the assistants. “Does anyone know if Madam Kapoor has any pre-existing heart conditions? What medication is she taking?”
“Yes… she has a heart problem; she takes medication for arrhythmias,” an assistant said, trembling.

“Where is the medication?”
“In the office, on the desk, top drawer.”

While the assistant ran to get the medication, Ajay focused on Vidya. Her breathing was becoming more labored. He needed to keep her steady until the ambulance arrived.
“Madam, try to breathe slowly. I know it’s hard, but you’re breathing so quickly, it’s making things worse.”

“No… I can’t,” Vidya gasped.

“If you can see, look into my eyes. Breathe with me. In… out…” — Ajay took a deep breath, demonstrating force.

Vidya tried, her eyes fixed on Ajay as if on a floating blob.

“Very good, again. In… out.”

The assistant ran and brought a small medicine bottle. Ajay opened it and read the label: Amiodarone — just as he had expected.
“When was the last time you took this medicine?”
“This morning… at 7,” Vidya said softly.