I am on a shopping trip with my girls, between the ages of 3 and 8. Dovre decides she wants to go to a church down the street. I let her go and accompany Paulina to another church which looks like a cafeteria. A Holy Bible is on our table and a woman comments on it being one of the older ones. I tell her it's not my bible, someone else must have left it there. Paulina isn't eating her plate full of eggs. I ask her why. She says the plate is dirty. I say we'll order a new one. It's OK. I worry now that I shouldn't have let Dovre walk to the other church alone. Maybe she is in trouble. I am thinking of going on shopping, when I feel my throat close up and reach my arm toward the far side of the mall where I'd left my wheelchair and water bottle. I gasp. My water, my water. Then I choke.