Chương 3
Alessia looked down at her foot.
The silver strap of her shoe had shifted against her skin.
She hated the shoe suddenly.
She hated the dress.
She hated the way her hair kept falling into her face.
A woman she barely knew came forward with a folded linen napkin and quietly offered it.
Alessia stared at it.
“For your hand,” the woman said.
Only then did Alessia notice blood along the heel of her palm.
“Oh.”
She accepted the napkin.
“Thank you.”
The woman nodded and stepped away again, embarrassed by her own kindness.
Near the table, the young woman in green still held her phone.
Valerio turned toward her.
She flinched.
“I wasn't filming her,” she said immediately.
Valerio's brow lowered.
“I mean, I was filming the speeches.”
Her name came back to Alessia slowly.
Nina.
One of Veronica's college friends.
She had spent dinner complaining that the salmon was overcooked and then apologizing to the waiter for complaining.
Nina looked at Veronica.
“I just left it running.”
Veronica went very still.
“What?”
Nina lifted the phone a few inches.
“I was getting a video for you.”
“You were filming?”
“The table.”
“You were supposed to film the cake.”
“I know.”
Nina glanced down.
“I forgot to stop.”
Veronica's voice became soft.
“Give me the phone.”
Nina did not move.
“Seriously?”
“I said give it to me.”
Valerio stepped between them without touching either woman.
“No.”
Veronica stared at him.
“You don't get to confiscate my friend's phone.”
“I didn't.”
“She was filming my wedding.”
Nina's mouth tightened.
“It's my phone.”
Veronica turned on her.
“I paid for this wedding.”
“That doesn't mean you own my phone.”
A nervous sound passed through the guests, not quite laughter.
Veronica heard it.
Her cheeks flushed.
“This is unbelievable.”
The dark-haired man beside Dr. Cole stood.
“I think maybe everyone should stop arguing until the paramedics get here.”
Veronica gave him a sharp look.
“And you are?”
“Daniel.”
“I know your name.”
“Then that saves us time.”
Under different circumstances, the remark might have been funny.
No one smiled.
Alessia pressed the napkin against her palm and closed her eyes for three seconds.
The argument above her had begun to sound distant and absurd.
She concentrated on breathing.
In through her nose.
Out through her mouth.
She had learned that years ago from a yoga instructor she disliked because the woman used the phrase honor your body every four minutes.
Alessia had stopped attending after three classes.
Now she found herself obeying her.
The ballroom doors opened.
Two paramedics entered carrying equipment, followed by a hotel security manager whose tie was slightly crooked.
The room changed at once.
People moved back.
Conversations became whispers.
Phones lowered or vanished into pockets.
Veronica stepped away from the chair as though distance might also create innocence.
One paramedic, a woman with dark hair pulled into a tight knot, crouched beside Alessia.
“Hi, I'm Mara.”
“Alessia.”
“I heard you took a fall.”
“Yes.”
“Can you tell me exactly what hurts?”
Alessia looked at Dr. Cole.
He shifted back immediately.
“She's yours.”
Mara smiled briefly.
“Doctor?”
“Cole Bennett.”
“Thank you.”
She began the assessment again from the beginning, asking questions Alessia had already answered.
Alessia answered them again.
When Mara asked whether she could feel the pressure of two fingers against her toes, Alessia said no.
Mara repeated the test.
Then she looked at her partner.
That was enough.
Alessia's throat tightened.
“Can somebody please tell me whether that's bad?”
“It means we're going to be careful,” Mara said.
“That's what he said.”
“Doctors steal all our best lines.”
Dr. Cole gave the faintest shrug.
“Occupational hazard.”
The small joke helped more than Alessia wanted it to.
For perhaps five seconds, she could imagine that everyone was simply competent and mildly annoying and that nothing permanent had happened.
Then Mara asked for a splint.
The illusion disappeared.
Veronica moved toward them.
“Can she be taken out through the service hall?”
Mara looked up.
“What?”
“The main entrance is full of guests.”
Alessia opened her eyes.
Veronica continued quickly.
“I just mean for privacy.”
“Whose privacy?”
Valerio asked.
Veronica's jaw flexed.
“Everyone is staring.”
“They're staring already.”
“She doesn't need an audience.”
Alessia almost believed the concern until Veronica added, “And the photographer is still here.”
Something inside Alessia cooled.
Not anger exactly.
Anger required more energy than she had.
It was closer to recognition.
All those years she had translated Veronica for other people.
She's stressed.
She didn't mean it.
You know how she gets.
She's actually very generous.
She had performed those sentences so often that they had become reflexes.
Now, lying partly on her side while a paramedic stabilized her leg, Alessia saw how much labor had gone into protecting Veronica from the consequences of being Veronica.
“Main entrance,” Alessia said.
Veronica looked down at her.
“What?”
“I want to go through the main entrance.”
“Alessia, don't be childish.”
The room changed again.
It was tiny.
A few eyes lifted.
One person inhaled.
Daniel looked at the floor.
Alessia heard herself say, “Don't call me childish while I'm on the floor because you pulled a chair away from me.”
Veronica's face emptied.
“That is not what happened.”
Nina looked at her phone.
Nobody spoke.
Valerio turned toward Nina.
“Do you still have the video?”
Veronica answered before Nina could.
“This is ridiculous.”
“Nina?”
Valerio asked.
Nina nodded.
“I think so.”
“You think so?”
“I haven't checked.”
Veronica took a step forward.
“Nina.”
Nina backed away.
“Stop saying my name like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you're warning me.”
Veronica's eyes widened with offended disbelief.
“I am not warning you.”
“You are a little.”
Mara's partner slid the splint beneath Alessia's leg with controlled movements.
Pain traveled through her ankle in a hot wave.
Alessia gasped and grabbed Daniel's sleeve before she even knew he was close enough.
He froze.
“Sorry.”
“It's fine.”
May you like
“I didn't mean to—”
“Alessia, you can rip it off if you need to.”
