Page 99 of Wicked Queen

Sarah was waiting by the table cake server in hand and a sour expression on her face. “Can we do this? People are threatening to riot.”

“You don’t want me to make a speech like Dad used to?” I asked innocently.

She rolled her eyes, reminding me of all the birthdays we’d had before. “No, I—”

But her words were cut off as all hell broke loose.

Chapter 28

Clara

I sat down with Belle, taking my time, uncertain what to expect. But most of me was still numb—except my heart. It ached with fullness. My best friend regarded me with amusement, but kept her comments to herself in front of Smith.

I was sure she wouldn’t afford me that courtesy later. I expected her to drag me off to the bathroom so she could pressure me for details. But what had happened with Alexander was ours alone. I’d never been one to kiss and tell. Once I’d met him, it had been unnecessary, since what he’d done to me was written all over my face.

I felt it there now, warming my cheeks. I felt it other places, too.

Across the room, he joined his brother and sister to cut the cake. It was difficult to process that this was my family—this was my life. He’d given it to me and he’d never allow anyone to take it away.

They laughed, and I wondered at the private joke, thrilling to see them coming together. They were—

A shout cut across the room and then another. I stood as a chair was knocked over.

“Clara,” Belle called, but I was already heading to the cake table. The crowd had moved in front of me, blocking my view. When I reached it, forcing my way gracelessly through the people gathered around to help. I found Edward and Alexander on their knees. Alexander’s hands were on Mary’s chest, pumping life into her with so much force I heard a rib crack. Next to him, Edward was calling orders.

Looking up, I saw Sarah standing behind the cake, holding her mouth. It felt as though my body was floating up, detached from the scene before me. I acted on pure instinct. Moving to her, I wrapped an arm around her shoulders and dragged her away.

It would do no good for her to see this. She turned into my shoulder, covering her eyes now as she began to cry. There was nothing to say, but I tried anyway, each sentiment sounding more meaningless than the next. “Help is on the way. Alexander is trained. It will be fine.”

But it wouldn’t be. Mary had looked terrible the last time I saw her. She was approaching ninety. I was offering promises I couldn’t keep. I fell silent when I realized it.

It took longer than it should for the ambulance to arrive, but it always felt that way in the moment of death—like time had slowed down and forced you to savor every bitter bite. When the medics got there, the crowd parted for them, blocking us from seeing any more. That was for the best.

Spotting Norris, I beckoned him over with my free hand. He’d been absent most of the evening, no doubt checking every window in the place. He hurried over and we exchanged worried glances.

Neither of us said what we were thinking but this was becoming a habit.

“We should get her out of here,” I said.

He bobbed his head, ushering us through an emergency door. Sarah gulped down air when we were outside, but it only seemed to power her tears. Norris stepped to the side and called a car.

Carefully extricating myself from Sarah, I joined him and lowered my voice, my eyes still on her. “Where are they taking Mary?”

“St. James,” he said. “But…”

I closed my eyes, uncertain I was ready to deal with another wave of grief. Mary hadn’t been close with her grandchildren, but that carried a different kind of grief with it—one that coupled with doubt and anger in equal measure. Alexander and Edward were experienced in this kind, but Sarah…

“Should we take her?” I asked him. He pressed his ear, listening to some bit of information on his earpiece.

It was a difficult decision. The hospital would be chaotic and decisions would have to be made. I wasn’t sure how Sarah would handle that. It hit me just how little experience she had in this.

“Alexander and Edward are going with Mary. I don’t think that…”

Tonight we were fluent in broken sentences.

“Home?” I didn’t know what we do there but sit and wait.

“Should we ask her?” he suggested.