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Ah. Then she’d seen the news. “I do work in Infectious Disease,” I reminded her.
“So the attack was an infectious disease?”
“We can’t be sure yet, but it looks that way, yes.”
Natalie’s eyes went round.
“I know.”
“Anybody... hit? By the attack?”
I nodded.
“Anyone you knew?”
“I know them now,” I joked.
Natalie shook her head as we turned onto Washington Avenue. “That’s so crazy. Are they okay?”
The image of Davis in the isolation tube, panicking and alone, flashed through my mind again. “I don’t know yet.”
“No wonder you were late last night. I can only imagine the red tape.”
That wasn’t exactly the reason I’d come home well after dark, but the noise of the Expressway overhead and then waiting to cross Christopher Columbus Boulevard spared me from responding. Once we left our historical neighborhood, the sights were much less picturesque until we reached the Delaware River Trail (as long as we ignored the industrial properties on our right).
“So is it anthrax like the news says?” Natalie asked once we were away from the noise of traffic.
“Well, we can’t be completely sure yet, but it’s a strong possibility.”
“Wow. You’re treating an anthrax attack.” Natalie shook her head again. “That’s unreal.”
Time to start to work on my plan. Fortunately for me—and Davis—I hadn’t shared my suspicions about the pain I’d glimpsed in his eyes before. “The patient seems to not want his family contacted.”
“Does he not want them to worry?”
“Actually... he seems to think they won’t care.” And maybe he had a reason for thinking that—in a weird way, I supposed you could construe the attack as Everett’s fault, since he’d cheated on Harper, I guess?
“Hm.” Natalie focused on her breathing for a few hundred yards.
Or maybe she was focused on something else. I said what I thought we might both be thinking: “What if it were Samantha?”
“Exactly where my mind went.”
Our middle sister had tried several times to get clean, but she always seemed to end up in the ER or another rehab center—or worse. Not to mention the consequences for Angela and Carter.
“Sometimes she won’t give the ER an emergency contact,” I murmured. She’d learned to avoid Beaufort because I’d found her in the ER once. “She’s scared we’ll judge her.”
“Or maybe she’s scared that we’ll stop caring. Or that we already have.”
I glanced over at Natalie, her brunette ponytail whipping from side to side. Though she stared straight ahead, I could still see the tears glistening in her eyes. I loved and worried about Samantha too, of course, but Natalie was our big sister, and it was different for her, I knew. I reached over quickly and awkwardly caught her elbow to give it a squeeze. Natalie returned a little smile.
“I do wish it would stop, you know? Not that I want anything bad to happen to Sam, but sometimes...” She sighed. “I’m a bad sister.”
“Excuse me, you’re an amazing sister, and I’m one of the top two experts in the world on the quality of your sisterliness.”
She rolled her eyes, laughing.
“And you’re a human who’s had a lot piled on her.” I watched her a minute longer, but Natalie’s determination to judge herself didn’t soften. “And you care about what it does to Angela and Carter.”
