Chapters (51)
- Cover
- Praise for Sara Shepard
- Also by Sara Shepard
- Dedication
- PART ONE
- —
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- PART TWO
- Piper
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Piper
- Eighteen
- Piper
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Piper
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Piper
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Piper
- Thirty-Four
- Epilogue
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
- What’s next onyour reading list?
Ronnie shook her head. Whatever was going on with her was beginning to subside. The cool air, perhaps. The act of sitting and breathing. Her heart wasn’t pounding so rapidly in her ears anymore. “I just want to take a minute,” she said. “I’ll be okay.”
The man didn’t seem convinced. He offered to get her water, food, something. He was older, Ronnie noticed. She looked down at herself and realized that the shirt she was wearing was tight, revealing the outline of her bra. Once more, she said she was okay. “Thank you,” she told him again and again. “Really.” Finally, he left.
The ER waiting room was nearly empty save for a woman at the front desk, who barely looked up as Ronnie wrote down her name for triage. Since she was calmer now, she was told to wait. Ronnie took a seat in the plastic chair, trying to calm her heart and collect her thoughts. Eventually, shakily, she lifted her phone and dialed the motel she’d arranged for Vanessa. “I booked my sister and her daughter to check in,” she told the receptionist once he answered. Her tongue felt strange forming the words her daughter. “Under Johnson. Have they arrived?”
The man told her to hang on, setting the receiver down with a clunk. A few seconds later, he returned. “Yep, they’re settled in. Want me to get them?”
Ronnie was stunned. Vanessa had followed her advice! It gave her a rush of euphoria. She told the man no, she just wanted to check. When she hung up, her spirits were buoyed. Okay then. Ronnie had two days. She would figure this out—and get Esme back.
She moved toward the triage nurse and told her that she didn’t need to be seen after all. The double doors to the ER, emblazoned with the hospital logo, slid open as she walked past them to leave. She stopped. Ventura Memorial Hospital. This is where Piper was.
She didn’t move for a whole minute.
Through a directory, she learned that neurological intensive care, which was where they kept patients with potential brain injuries, was on the fourth floor. The elevator doors swung open on a quiet unit. To the right was a waiting room; a few people sat scattered in chairs, reading or sleeping or staring numbly at a television. Down the hall were a few open doors; Ronnie could see a line of beds and machines. A nurse bustled past without looking Ronnie’s way.