Her hands were trembling. “I’m no-o-t, I’m no-o-t, I can’t breathe,” she sobbed. “The room looks all dark, Abba— do something! I’m gonna die!”
IN the evening, Tovi suddenly couldn’t breathe.
She sat on the pink chair in the foyer of the guest apartment, choking, with both hands clasping her heart.
“Abba, help! I’m having a heart attack!” she shrieked, terrified. “I’m going to die, Abba!”
“Tovi, calm down, I’m here,” he said, bending over her, giving her a shake, trying to make her catch her breath.
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