Chapters (51)
- Cover
- Dedication
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Acknowledgments
- P.S. Insights, Interviews & More . . .*
- About the Author
- About the Book
- Also by Alison Gaylin
- About the Publisher
She heard her name called again—by Verity this time. She knew it without looking up. “Ms. Diamond,” Verity said, and the sound of it made her heart pound.
Verity had piercing dark eyes, a downturned mouth. She was a naturally somber-looking person, but when Robin looked up at her, she was smiling. “Mom’s off the tube and alert,” she said. “She wants to see you.”
Robin jumped up from her seat, Eric along with her. His arm stayed around her shoulders as they followed Verity to the elevators, and Robin breathed deeply, thinking of new beginnings.
Once they reached their floor and the elevator doors opened, Quentin Garrison crossed her mind—the fact that he’d never shown up for their meeting. But it was one fleeting thought of many. And when Verity briefly stopped her, showing her the old Polaroid she’d found under her mother’s bed and asking if it was hers, Robin was so intent on slipping it into her purse before Eric noticed that Quentin disappeared from her thoughts entirely.
Twenty
Robin
“HI, SWEETIE.” MOM’S voice sounded deep and croaky, as though she were just getting over a terrible case of laryngitis. She looked frail still. But awake, animated. Without that tube taped to her lips, Renee White Bloom looked like herself again. It was thrilling, really, to see her breathing on her own.
Eric squeezed Robin’s hand, and her eyes started to blur. “You’re back, Mom,” she said. “You’re back with me.”
Robin moved toward the bed and took her mother’s hand in hers. She wanted to hug her, but she was aware of how frail she was.
“You look so thin,” Mom said. “Have you not been eating?”
Robin glanced at Eric. He smiled, and she smiled back. Classic Renee Bloom. Lying in a hospital bed having just come off life support, yet still fretting over her only daughter.
“Where’s Mitchell?” Renee said.
Eric’s smile dropped away.
One of the doctors stepped forward—a tall, distinguished surgeon with silver-framed glasses that matched the streaks in his black hair. He’d introduced himself to Robin in the hallway as “Dr. Wu, like the Steely Dan song”—an icebreaker he’d no doubt used hundreds of times in his career, but one that Robin still appreciated. She was positive she’d seen and spoken to Dr. Wu at some point early in her mother’s hospitalization, and he hadn’t bothered introducing himself at all. But now that Mom was officially no longer a goner, it was as though a human decency switch had been flicked and Robin merited not only introductions but classic rock mnemonic devices. “Mrs. Bloom,” Dr. Wu said. “Do you know why you’re here?”
Mom’s gaze darted around the room, resting finally on Robin. “I . . . I had a heart attack?” She looked up at her with pleading eyes, like a grade-school kid trying to come up with the right answer.