Then suddenly—
a wealthy man in a charcoal suit collapsed hard onto the wet pavement beside the café terrace.
Coffee exploded across the sidewalk.
People screamed.
Phones instantly rose to record.
Emma froze for half a second—
then ran toward him.
Her folder slipped from her hands into the rain.
Papers scattered across the street.
“Sir? Can you hear me?”
She dropped to her knees beside him, trembling fingers searching desperately for a pulse.
Nothing.
Rainwater soaked through her sleeves as panic flooded her face.
“Come on… breathe!”
She started CPR in the middle of the crowded sidewalk while strangers stood frozen around her filming.
Sirens screamed closer through traffic.
Paramedics rushed in and carefully pulled her back.
One looked directly into her exhausted eyes.
“You saved his life.”
Emma grabbed her soaked phone.
10:08 AM.
Her interview was gone.
The ambulance doors slammed shut and disappeared into the gray city traffic.
Minutes later, Emma sat alone on a rain-soaked bench trying not to cry when her phone suddenly rang.
Unknown number.
She answered shakily.
“Miss Blake… the man you saved this morning is Richard Weston.”
Emma froze completely.
“And he’s asking to see you. Tonight.”
Then suddenly—
a panicked voice shouted somewhere in the background of the call.
“WAIT—DON’T TELL HER ABOUT THE DAUGHTER!”
The line disconnected instantly.
Rain continued falling softly around Emma as terror slowly spread across her face.
“…what daughter?”
Part 2 in the comments.
