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Meanwhile, I field a barrage of questions from staff—because she’s not talking—mostly with a single response to all of them:I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know.
At last, the nurse springs to action and aims a thermometer at Annalise’s forehead. Her eyes pop. She picks up the phone and says something I can’t hear with my face pressed into Annalise’s. A minute later, the room explodes with people in varying colors of scrubs. She’s taken from my arms, laid on a gurney and rolled away. I follow, but when I get to the set of doors she has disappeared behind, a nurse stops me. “I’m sorry, sir. You’re not allowed in there.”
“But…”
“Are you family?”
I shake my head, kicking myself almost simultaneously. Fine time I pick to tell the truth. I’ve missed my chance to be in the loop.
What am I going to do now?
CHAPTER 11
Marco
I pace.
Up and down.
Back and forth.
How can Annalise be this sick? She’s been healthy as a horse these last few days—unless all the shaking was more than low blood sugar? But that doesn’t make sense. Eating has helped every time. And she’s looked good. Man alive, she’s looked good.
Healthy. I mean she’s looked healthy. Wow, I’m a rat.
I need to know what’s happening behind those doors. Is she dead? Alive?
Oh, God, please let her be alive. I can’t tell Tripp his sister is gone. I can’t.
Oh, no. Tripp. I should call him. I have to call him. But what do I say?Hey, picked your sister up at Jake’s the other night and we’ve been playing house ever since, but now she’s in the hospital and I think it’s bad?
Nope, not gonna work.
What other choice is there? She could be dying for all I know, and while that thought is devastating in its own right, the fact that I could lose my best friend also burns.
I take my phone from my pocket. My thumb hovers over his name, but I can’t quite make the final tap. I lock the screen and shove it back into my pocket. I’m overreacting, right? I mean, what are the odds a young twenty-something suddenly keels over from a fever? She was holding her stomach. Was it something she ate?
But I know better. I know. I saw her. Held her. Felt the heat.
I saw the nurse’s eyes when she read the thermometer. I heard her relay it to the crew that rushed in. I know 105 is deadly for an adult.
I find a chair and sink into it. The truth or silence? Either way, someone gets hurt. Either way, I’m a traitor.
As I reach for my phone, the double doors swing open, spitting out a blue-scrubbed nurse. There are other people nearby, but she comes straight to me.
“Are you Marco?”
“How is she?” I blurt, letting the question be my identifier.
Her smile is half-hearted at best, but her words bring sweet relief. “Ms. Walker wants to see you.”
No need to tell me twice. I lead the way to the door, then have to fall back so she can swipe her card. I plow ahead once more, again having to drop back so she can take me where I need to go. To Annalise.
She leads me to an elevator, and we rise two floors. Another corridor, another card swipe, and finally, I’m standing in a curtained bay at the foot of a white-sheeted bed with Annalise on it. Wires and tubes protrude from her body, as well as an oxygen canula from her nose. Her eyes are closed, and my entire core tightens. Another nurse is standing near her head, fiddling with one of the IV poles.
“Just a minute now. They’re about to take her back.”
Before I can askback where,Annalise opens her eyes and notices me. I’m thankful for this, because throughout the trip here she was practically nonresponsive. Maybe whatever they’re pumping through those tubes is already making a difference. Her face is flushed, her eyes glassy, but she reaches out. I come alongside, and the moment I’m close enough, she clutches my arm. “Don’t tell Tripp.”
