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“What took you so long?” Hannah asked. We’d all been about to leave the house at the same time.
Gabe and Lauren looked at each other briefly.
“There was some work stuff we had to take care of,” Gabe said, his tone neutral.
Lauren didn’t say anything. She looked down, playing with her engagement ring.
“What sort of stuff?” Hannah asked, immediately on alert.
Before Gabe could answer, the service started, and he turned away. I thought he seemed relieved not to have to talk.
Hannah looked at me, her brow furrowed with worry. I squeezed her hand, wishing I could soothe her. Something was going on with Gabe and Lauren—they were hiding something. But we were at a funeral, and that seemed like more than enough to deal with for one morning.
Chapter 12
Hannah
I pulled out my compact and put some concealer underneath my eyes. My mascara had run at the service, and I didn’t want Dr. Fisher to pounce on me for crying. “They didn’t have to say it. Of course it had something to do with Li Na. Otherwise they wouldn’t have been looking at each other like that, and then they ran out of there—”
Wes sighed. “Just because Gabe and Lauren had to leave before we could ask them what happened does not mean it’s about Li Na. Not necessarily.”
I stared at him until he gave in.
“Okay, something’s definitely up, but we’ll talk to them tonight, okay? We don’t need to drive ourselves crazy right now.”
I snapped my compact shut. “Crazy. That’s the perfect word choice.”
Wes put his hand over mine. “Having a panic attack doesn’t make you crazy. With everything that’s happened, it’d be crazier if you didn’t have one.”
“You haven’t had one.”
“I was unconscious while you were kidnapped. Trust me, I would’ve had a panic attack if I’d known, if not worse.”
I twisted my ponytail, nervous about seeing Dr. Fisher. The driver pulled up alongside the curb in front of her practice, and I frowned. “She’s going to say ‘I told you so.’ I know it.”
“Why?” Wes asked.
“Never mind.” I shook my head. “I’m just babbling.”
Wes looked like he wanted to ask more, but he bit his questions back as we went inside to wait. When the nurse came out to the waiting room, she said, “Dr. Fisher is ready for you. She’d like to speak with both of you, actually.”
Wes didn’t look at me, probably knowing I’d object. We followed the nurse into an exam room, and Dr. Fisher came in a moment later. She introduced herself to Wesley and then turned to me. “I read the report in your file—I’m sorry you went through that. The good news is, your labs came back normal. That’s great.”
“Good.” In the back of my overactive-imagination-prone mind, I’d been worried I had some rare form of cancer that manifested itself in panic attacks.
She began examining me, listening to my heart and taking my blood pressure as Wes watched carefully.
“What’s her blood pressure?” he asked.
Dr. Fisher smiled. “One-ten over sixty. It’s perfect.”
“Good.” Wes sounded relieved. He seemed to know a lot more about medicine than I did, even though I devoutly watched Grey’s Anatomy and had previously believed that qualified me as somewhat of an expert.
“Does everything look okay?” he asked Dr. Fisher once she’d finished checking my pulse and staring into my eyes with an annoying light.
She smiled again—apparently, she liked Wes and his never-ending list of medical questions. “Her vitals are completely normal.”
Wes grinned. “That’s a relief.”
