“I’m coming, hold on, sweetie,” I mumbled, honking my horn repeatedly. The bus driver seemed oblivious, continuing down the road as if nothing was wrong. Panic rising in my chest, I made a split-second decision. I swerved around the bus and cut in front, forcing it to a stop in the middle of the busy road.The driver, a burly man with a thick black mustache, stormed out. “What kinda stunt are you pulling, lady? You coulda caused an accident!” I ignored him, pushing past and rushing onto the bus. The noise hit me like a wall. The kids flocked around the girl, shouting and laughing. I raced to the back, where the little girl sat alone, her face now red and tear-streaked. As I reached her, I froze. This wasn’t what I expected at all.”Oh my God! Are you having an asthma attack?” The little girl nodded frantically, her chest heaving as she struggled for air. I knelt beside her seat, my heart racing.”What’s your name, sweetie?” I asked, trying to keep my voice calm. She pointed to the ID card hanging around her neck. Her name was Chelsea. “Okay, Chelsea, we’re gonna get you help. Where’s your inhaler?”Chelsea shook her head, unable to speak. I looked up to see the driver had followed me, his face pale. “Do you know where her inhaler is?” He shook his head. “I… I didn’t even know she was having trouble. It’s so noisy back here, I couldn’t hear anything.” I bit back an angry retort and started searching Chelsea’s backpack. Nothing. Panic clawed at my insides as I watched the little girl’s lips start to turn blue.”Help me look!” I shouted at the driver. We searched under the seats, in the aisle, everywhere we could think of. To my horror, I realized the other kids were laughing, some even pointing at Chelsea. “This isn’t funny!” I snapped at them. “She needs help!” That’s when it hit me. I started grabbing all their backpacks, ignoring their protests. “Hey, you can’t do that!” a freckle-faced boy yelled.I found it in the third bag I checked: a blue inhaler with Chelsea’s name on it. I rounded on the boy who owned the backpack. “Why do you have this?” He looked away, muttering, “It was just a joke.” “A joke? She could have died!”I rushed back to Chelsea, helping her use the inhaler. Gradually, her breathing steadied and the color returned to her face. I held her hand, murmuring soothing words as she recovered. The driver stood there, wringing his hands. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea…” I turned to him, my anger flaring. “These kids are your responsibility! You should’ve checked what was going on when you heard a commotion!”He nodded, shame-faced. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” Chelsea tugged at my sleeve, her voice barely a whisper. “Thank you.” Those two words hit me harder than any