MY RICH DAD SAID “GLORIFIED MEDIC” AT HIS $2M PARTY

a little under my palms. They always do. You never get used to the sound.

“Someone get the AED from the foyer wall,” I said without looking up. “Red case. Next to the coat check. Go.”

A young man in a waiter’s vest sprinted.

Twenty. Twenty-one. Twenty-two.

Somewhere above me, I felt my father arrive at the edge of the circle. I didn’t look at him. I didn’t continue reading …