“But, Morris—”

“You’re an excellent sister. Truly dedicated. And you’re doing the right thing. Come on, let’s get back to the office.”

I follow Morris out to the car. This is the one turn of events I hadn’t planned for, and it puts everything in jeopardy. The drugs. The baby. Everything. I reach for the cell in my pocket and dial Sully back. It rings and rings. I hang up and try again. The realization wheezes like a flu in my chest. He’s refusing to answer my call. All the way back to the office, my brain scrambles to figure out why.

RUTH

There’s a din in my head that sounds like wailing. It takes me a moment to realize the sound is coming from outside of me, that it’s beyond my pain. Chase drives me through the town as Sully leads us, carving a path through traffic to the emergency room with his siren on and police lights flashing. Everything about me feels about to burst. What are we going to do? I want to yell at Chase, but I’m woozy, and the words won’t take shape. My bag lolls at my feet with the tin of drugs still inside it. Chase skids to a halt behind the police car as three nurses come running, easing me out of my seat and onto a gurney, rattling me fast toward the main entrance.

“I’m right behind you,” Chase shouts, but I’m not ready, I can’t go, Sully is going to find everything out. The last I see of Chase, he’s hooked my bag over one shoulder and is hurrying to lock the vehicle. Then the main entrance doors sweep close behind me, and I’m rushed along vinyl yellow hallways, ceiling lights streaking above me like comets. Flat on my back, I battle not to pass out.

The nurses wheel me into a private room and transfer me into a bed just as a fresh stab of pain hits and I begin to cry. For Alex, for me, for this baby. For everything that’s happened that I can’t undo. More than anything I want my mom, to have her kiss me on the forehead like she used to, and love me again. My little owl. But I can’t think about Mom for too long: nothing about her memory is steadying.

“It’s all right, dear,” a nurse says, strapping a heart monitor around the bulk of me. Another nurse jams my finger into a plastic clip. Machines begin to beep at the side of my bed.

“What’s happening?” I ask. “Is my baby okay?”