“He didn’t misrepresent anything,” I said. “He told them he used to be a paramedic. I heard him.”
“The airline’s lawyers don’t care what you heard,” Noah said. “They’re scared of getting sued.”
I tried calling the airport police department three times that morning. The first two times, I was put on hold. The third time, a tired sergeant told me Mr. Salas had been interviewed and released without charges at around five the previous evening.
“Where did he go?”
“Ma’am, I’m not able to share that.”
“Please. I just want to thank him. He delivered my baby.”
There was a pause on the line.
“Off the record?” the sergeant said. “He asked us about the nearest motel. Said he couldn’t fly home and didn’t feel like driving nine hours tonight. And ma’am…” Another pause. “Before he left, he asked one of my officers whether your baby was all right. Three times.”
