Chương 2
Now he seemed to have no idea where to put his hands.
Sarah realized she was still clutching the bottle.
The paramedic gently took it from her.
“Was this prescribed to you?” he asked Daniel.
“Yes.”
“For what?”
Daniel hesitated.
“Anxiety.”
“Did you give a tablet to the child?”
“No.”
Lily’s eyes opened.
Claire looked down immediately.
“Don’t talk, sweetheart.”
Lily’s lips moved anyway.
Sarah leaned closer.
“He put it in my hand.”
Daniel closed his eyes.
Just once.
Then opened them.
The paramedics lifted Lily onto a stretcher.
Claire climbed to her feet beside them, gray dress wrinkled at both knees.
“I’m going with her.”
“I’m coming,” Sarah said.
Claire looked at the gown, the veil, the diamond earrings, the ballroom full of people.
For the first time, the absurdity of Sarah’s appearance seemed to register between them.
Claire gave one sharp nod.
Daniel took a step forward.
“Sarah.”
She did not answer.
“Sarah, please.”
She followed the stretcher.
He caught her lightly by the elbow.
Claire saw it.
So did the paramedic.
Sarah looked down at Daniel’s hand until he removed it.
“Let me come with you,” he said.
“No.”
“You don’t know what happened.”
“That is exactly why you are not coming.”
His face tightened.
“What are you going to tell them?”
Sarah stared at him.
It was not the question a frightened fiancé should have asked.
She felt something inside her move farther away from him.
“The truth,” she said.
The ambulance doors closed with Claire and Lily inside. Sarah stood on the curb in front of the hotel, her veil lifting slightly in the afternoon wind, while a second paramedic told her there was room for only one family member in the ambulance.
Someone from the hotel brought her a coat.
It belonged to a banquet manager named Ernesto, a man Sarah had met twice during planning meetings and whom she had nearly forgotten existed.
“You’re shaking,” he said.
“I’m not cold.”
“I know.”
He placed the coat around her shoulders anyway.
Behind the hotel windows, two hundred wedding guests had no idea what to do with themselves.
Her mother came outside with Sarah’s phone and purse.
“Go,” she said.
“Mom—”
“I’ll handle this.”
Her mother’s lipstick had smeared at one corner. Sarah had never seen Eleanor Bennett allow lipstick to smear.
“What does that mean?”
“It means I’ll tell people there’s an emergency and send them home.”
“Don’t tell them anything about Daniel.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
Sarah looked through the glass doors.
Daniel stood in the lobby.
His father had one hand on his shoulder.
Daniel’s mother was speaking rapidly to him.
He was looking at Sarah.
For a moment, something familiar returned to his face. Fear, certainly, but also appeal. The expression he had used once when his father had gone into surgery and Daniel had asked Sarah without words to stay beside him.
She almost went back inside.
Then she remembered his first look.
The bottle.
The exit.
“What did he give her?” Eleanor whispered.
Sarah shook her head.
“I don’t know.”
She took her phone and purse.
Her mother caught her hand.
“Sarah.”
“I have to go.”
“Are you married?”
The question was so strange that Sarah nearly laughed.
“No.”
The ceremony had stopped before the vows.
Before the rings.
Before anything legal mattered.
Eleanor closed her eyes briefly.
It was a terrible thing to be relieved about while an eight-year-old child was being taken to a hospital.
Sarah felt the same relief anyway.
At the hospital, a nurse cut through one of the tiny pearl buttons at Sarah’s wrist because her hands were swelling and she could not get the sleeve loose.
“I’m sorry,” the nurse said.
Sarah stared at the severed button on the floor.
“It’s fine.”
The nurse looked at her dress.
“You want scrubs or something?”
Sarah nodded.
Ten minutes later she was sitting in a plastic chair wearing blue hospital scrub pants beneath the lower half of her gown because there had been no easy way to remove the fitted bodice without help. Her veil was gone. She had left it folded on top of her purse.
Claire sat beside Lily’s bed.
The room smelled like disinfectant and warmed plastic.
Lily had an IV in one arm and a monitor clipped to her finger. She was awake now, though drowsy, and annoyed that everyone kept asking her the same questions.
That irritation comforted Sarah more than anything the doctor had said.
The doctor had been careful.
Lily appeared stable. They were monitoring her. They had information from the bottle and were waiting on tests. She might be sleepy for a while. They wanted to watch her breathing, heart rate, blood pressure, and mental status.
No guarantees.
No dramatic pronouncements.
Just waiting.
Claire sat forward with both feet planted on the floor as though she could keep her daughter alive by refusing to relax.
Sarah handed her a paper cup of water.
Claire did not take it.
“Drink.”
“I’m fine.”
“You haven’t had anything since breakfast.”
“My kid was drugged at your wedding.”
Sarah set the cup down.
Claire immediately looked ashamed.
“Sorry.”
“No.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“You did.”
Claire looked at her.
Sarah picked at a loose thread on the hospital scrub pants.
“You’re allowed.”
For a while, neither spoke.
Lily slept.
Machines made small noises around them.
Someone laughed in the hallway. A food cart squeaked past. A man in another room complained loudly that the television remote did not work.
The world had the indecency to continue.
Sarah’s phone had vibrated so many times that she had finally turned it face down.
Daniel had called seventeen times.
His mother had called four.
His father twice.
There were eighty-three text messages from guests.
One of the bridesmaids had sent only: I’m here. Tell me what you need.
Sarah liked that one best.
Claire eventually picked up the water.
“Did you know he had those?”
“No.”
May you like
“He takes anxiety medication?”
“I knew he had panic attacks a few years ago. I didn’t know he was taking anything now.”
