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The wrath in her eyes was frightening. I half wondered if this woman would kill me if I tried to stop her.
If she still wanted Alma dead after she’d had some time to calm down, to think clearly, I’d see to it.
I didn’t know what kind of man that made me and didn’t much care.
JoJo had managed to shock me yet again.
The last thing I ever expected out of her mouth was that she would kill someone.
I believed her.
Alma had chosen the wrong person to mess with.
If she’d come after me, JoJo wouldn’t have been murderous. Penelope? The gloves were off.
I hadn’t given Elliott a timeline to release Alma, so I wasn’t sure if they’d set her free immediately or wait for a bit.
Would it look worse for Alma to resurface only to disappear?
I had a laundry list of clients I could ask for tips about this sort of thing. I wouldn’t make use of them though.
“As your counsel, don’t say such things unless they’re in my ear. Quietly.” I brushed her hair back from her face.
The incinerating look she gave had me wondering if she was going to bite my hand off.
“Now isn’t the time for jokes.”
“I’m not kidding.”
She slumped. “I keep thinking the worst. And then I feel guilty for the negative thoughts.”
“When all we can do is sit around and wait, of course every worst-case scenario is going to fly through your brain. It’s natural.” I tugged on her scarf and continued. “Do you know how many times I’ve thought of horrible things? What if she lives, but never wakes up? Then what are we supposed to do? I can’t end her life. But is it fair to keep her breathing for our sakes?”
She gripped my thigh. “We aren’t going to face that.”
“I’m glad you’re sure because that awful idea pops into my head at least three times a day. I can’t turn it off.” I hoped Penelope didn’t know.
I believed in her ability to recover . . . I genuinely thought she would.
I couldn’t stand those niggling little thoughts that were so powerful they threatened to take me down.
Had I become negative by nature? Or was it a biproduct of my career?
It was important to look at a case from all angles, good and bad. Unconsciously, I’d been doing the same thing when it came to Penelope.
“How long is this surgery going to take?” JoJo popped off the sofa as if she could no longer stand to sit.
“She’ll be okay.” That was as much a promise to myself as it was to JoJo. One I couldn’t guarantee I could keep.
If I thought otherwise, that Penelope wouldn’t—I couldn’t think it right now—I’d go crazy.
“I’m going to ask Nurse Ana.” JoJo bolted out before I could stop her.
I looked up at the ceiling.Haven’t we been through enough?
My answer was JoJo’s blood-curdling scream.
I raced to the hallway and nearly skidded to a stop.
