Lindsey glanced back down at her donkey head and wondered if she could scrounge up a blow dryer to make the coat of paint dry more quickly.

She decided to go ask Nancy when there was a terrible gurgling sound from the stage. She glanced up and saw Robbie stumble. He caught himself on a piece of the set and pushed himself upright.

“Mr. Vine, are you all right?” Dylan asked from across the stage.

“Huh?” Robbie squinted at the boy. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Lindsey frowned. Robbie looked anything but fine. As if to prove her right, he let out a groan and sat down—or, more accurately, fell down on the stage.

“Robbie, get up!” Kitty snapped from the front of the theater.

“Don’t tell me what to do, you harpy,” Robbie snapped. But he wobbled even while sitting and his voice sounded slurred.

“Robbie, are you drunk?” Violet asked. She sounded annoyed.

“No!” Robbie said. Then he clutched his forehead and said, “Gah, my head is splitting!”

Lindsey wondered if she had any pain medicine in her purse. She was about to go check when Robbie pitched over backward onto the stage.

“Robbie!” Violet shouted.

She ran forward and knelt beside him, and Lindsey hurried from her position at the back of the theater. Emma Plewicki had been sitting in the back row, but she ran up onto the stage and knelt on Robbie’s other side.

“Robbie!” Violet cried his name and patted his face. Everyone else in the theater stood frozen. Emma checked the pulse in his wrist and his neck. Then she rested her right ear on his rib cage as if listening for a heartbeat or to feel the rise and fall of his chest.

In moments she was sitting up and she snatched the radio out of its holder on her shoulder. Lindsey heard her call for an ambulance. In the meantime, she started to give Robbie CPR. She was doing chest compressions, and Lindsey could see the sweat bead up on her forehead.

Violet was whispering low in Robbie’s ear words of encouragement and cajoling. Time seemed to stand still as everyone looked on in horror. Emma kept up the chest compressions, but there was no sign from Robbie that they were making any difference.

Five minutes later, the EMTs burst through the door at the back of the theater, pushing a stretcher down the aisle.

As soon as they hopped up onto the stage, Emma moved over to give them room.

She glanced at Lindsey and snapped, “Get everyone out of here!”

Feeling as if she were in a trance, Lindsey turned and glanced at the cast and crew, who stood in a trancelike state watching the real-life drama playing out in front of them.

“Everyone, move,” Lindsey said. Her voice was stronger than she would have thought. She held her arms out wide and walked toward the group. They all looked around her at the EMTs.