Lulu’s breathing was shallow, the intake of air quick, its expulsion long. Her hair was caked with dried vomit, and her odor suggested she was soiled. How much of the drugs had she ingested? Was there a way to undo it? Oh, God. “Is there an emergency room? No, that’s a bad idea.” Nola patted and bounced the little body, but it remained as rubbery and inert as a giant marshmallow. The lightweight pink pajamas were insufficient for the chill of the day. Nola took off her sweatshirt and covered her. Her baby. She couldn’t bear it if she died. Not another loss.

Leslie reached Daniel, gave him a brief explanation, and asked that he locate a doctor ASAP. “I’ll leave word with security at the hotel to let you in without delay.”

Nola tickled the soles of Lulu's feet, trilled her fingers on the damp cheek, and massaged the small ribs in an effort to wake her up. But Lulu lay listless in her arms. Oh, God. Please. Nola's chest burned with corrosive despair. “My little dumpling. I’ll never let you down again.”

She broke into Bridge Over Troubled Water. It was either sing or have her fear drag her down like an undertow. She went on singing, tears streaming down her face.

The limousine pulled through a side entrance into the garage. Upstairs moments later, Nola passed through the foyer of her suite, her eyes never leaving Lulu as though they had the power to penetrate the shield of sleep. She was vaguely aware of Wade conducting his phone business behind the living room’s closed doors. With Leslie at her side, she headed straight into her bedroom and lay Lulu down on the bed.

“I mustn’t lose her.” The bile taste of horror had lodged in Nola's mouth as she stripped and cleaned the little body with a wet, warm washcloth, all the while massaging the limbs, the back, the chest. Lulu remained unresponsive.

Leslie put his head to Lulu’s chest. “She’s breathing fine. Her color’s returned.” He walked to the far corner of the room, lit incense, and settled on the carpet Indian-style. He began to chant. “Hawoooooo—”

“What are you doing?” Nola asked.

“I’m bringing Hawaiian spirits so that divine sparks will leap from your fingers onto our little Lulu. Hawoooooooo—”

“Baruch atta Adonai,” Nola murmured, the only words she remembered from her Judaic studies, then added, God, please be good to her—to us. Rescue us— She massaged the sluggish body some more, and, when Lulu's eyelids fluttered, put her head to the little chest. The skin had warmed.

“The prayers are working,” she whispered to Leslie, and kept at them. Anything to fill the slow-dripping minutes of waiting until the doctor arrived. She hated waiting for Daniel. He could go to hell. “It’s been thirty minutes since we found her,” she said.