Page 70 of Over Her Dead Body

“Overdose,” someone says as the elevator doors open.

“I heard seizure.”

“I heard they took her out through the service entrance so the guests wouldn’t see.”

I have not made it past reception.

Two junior specialists stand near the copier while an intern pretends not to listen. Owen is at the coffee station several feet away, wisely staying out of it.

One of the specialists sees me. “Wait—Emma was there.”

Every head turns.

“What, like, actually happened?” the other asks.

“She collapsed.”

“Was she conscious, or...?” the first specialist asks.

“I didn’t see her.”

The intern stops feeding paper into the copier.

“But they just kept going?” The other specialist edges closer. “Like, the party went until dawn?”

“She collapsed upstairs,” I say. “Downstairs, the champagne wasn’t going to drink itself.”

One of the specialists laughs before realizing she probably should not.

The intern gathers her papers and leaves.

Owen sighs. “That will age well.”

“What? I was asked.”

“That has never stopped you from not answering,” he says.

“I’d be better liked if I had your instincts.”

“Less interesting, though.”

“A real shame,” I say.

“Tell me about it.”

I check my phone on the way to my desk.

Todd has sent five texts.

Home?

Everything okay?

Last night was intense.

But also kind of amazing?

Still on for Friday?