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Crispin could have gotten away.
And she’d need her mother now.
Bonnie crawled to the rear door of the breezeway. She just needed to breathe. To catch her breath. Smoke was scorching her lungs. She could see flames in the door of the kitchen. The floor of the breezeway was burning hot now. She remembered…the basement that ran beneath the carriage house. Her father had had it modified to have smaller exam rooms down there, so the larger rooms upstairs could be for patients to stay in more comfortably.
That was where she had been. That basement. She wouldneverforget that basement now.
She just kept putting one knee in front of the other. She couldn’t put any weight on her broken wrist. It just hurt too much.
She kept moving. And moving some more.
She heard the sirens outside. Bonnie knew help waited. She just had to get to where they could find her.
Bonnie pulled herself to her feet. The back door was right there. She was almost there.
She pushed it open.
And stepped out into the night.
Bonnie screamed when she saw the man there.
She fell to her knees.
Right at a tall, blond man’s feet.
Bonnie didn’t get up again.
138
They were goingto be there when her niece was brought in. It didn’t need discussed. They all knew it. Heather cuddled Ember close again.
Joy led the way. To the emergency department.
They stayed out of the way of the people working. And they waited. And waited.
Heather was at the front, her baby in her arms. Joy, always Joy, right next to her. Cashlyn, Cara, and Hope. Eden, Samia, and Summer—sticking close together like the sisters always had. And Marcia, watching over all of them when Bonnie couldn’t.
The way it had always been.
No matter what Denita had done. The bonds between them all—sisters of the heart—those bonds could not ever be broken now. No matter what happened now.
She took a step toward the pneumatic doors when they opened.
Samia pulled her back. “Not yet. We have to wait. See if it’s Crispin first. Then stay back. Out of the way, no matter what.”
Samia worked this department. She knew how it went.
Heather waited, holding her breath.
Until a strong man in a TSP polo walked in, a familiar teenager held in his arms.
Someone, a tall man with blond hair, yelled for a gurney.
“That’s Dr. Lake. He’s good. Less arrogant than some of the others,” Samia said. They stayed back and watched as the man lowered Crispin to a hospital gurney. And wheeled her down the hall.
Right past where her family stood.
Crispin’s eyes opened. She turned her head. And looked right at Heather.
