I tug Ivori’s elbow, dragging her into the hallway outside the ballroom. “I’m gonna dip out early. Can you cover for me in case Harrison asks where I am?”
“Of course.” Her head dips. “Do you think something happened to him?”
My stomach drops as nerves trickle into my bloodstream. “I don’t know, but I won’t feel better until I know he’s okay.”
I race into the parking lot and duck behind a few cars so nobody makes me out. Once I’m in my Jeep, I pull out onto the main road and click Landon’s name to call him.
It rings until his voicemail picks up.
I smack the steering wheel. “Fuck.”
It takes about twenty minutes to get to Landon’s house from the party hall. I make it in ten.
I pull into his driveway behind his Explorer. Marie’s car is here as well. Flinging open my door, I jump out and scurry up the driveway as fast as my stupid heels will allow me.
The lights are on but the blinds are closed, so I can’t see into any of the rooms downstairs. I ring the doorbell, frantic like a lunatic, in between pounding on the door.
If they were home, one of them would open this door.
My heart pounds in my throat as I strain to hear something. Anything.
“Landon?” I bang my fist against the door. “Marie? Are you home?”
“They’re at the hospital.”
I whirl around, looking in the direction of the voice. Landon’s next-door neighbor, an elderly woman with gray hair and a string of pearls around her neck, leans on the ledge of her porch.
“I saw the ambulance pull up and take Marie into the back. Landon went with her.”
Fuck. Marie’s hurt.
“Thank you!” I yank off my heels and lift the bottom of my dress so my legs can move faster as I dart across the lawn and back to my Jeep.
I peel out of the driveway and make my way to the hospital.
A thick ball of emotion lodges in my throat. I haven’t felt this worried since my father was in the hospital. Every time my phone rang, I assumed the worst. It was a stressful way to live, but it was only temporary.
I was with him when he passed, so I didn’t have to wait for the call.
I park in the emergency lot for guests, and run barefoot into the waiting room. The security guard standing by the door eyeballs me as I slow to a stop at the counter.
My chest heaves as I rack my brain for a plausible lie. “M-my mother just got brought in. Last name is Fletcher. My brother is in there with her.”
“Can I see your ID, please?”
My hand trembles as I slip my license out of my wallet. Hopefully she doesn’t give me shit about having a different last name and no wedding ring on my finger.
The woman behind the desk clacks her nails against the keyboard. “Marie Fletcher?”
I nod. “Yes, that’s her.”
“She’s being transported to a room.” She slides a map across the counter and circles the unit Marie is being taken to. “Room 504. Do you need directions?”
“No, thank you.” I know this place like the back of my hand.
I take my license and toss it into my purse as I walk toward the turnstile.
“Ma’am.”
