Amusement makes me laugh, and powdered sugar falls from my fingers like snow as I nod to the bag. “Just try it. Then you’ll understand.”

He ignores my suggestion, and I can see he’s just biding his time here, so I take the opportunity to take a couple more big bites and then follow it up with a drink of too-hot coffee. I’m sure he’s going to insist we leave soon, and it makes me wonder what’s next on our agenda. But as I’m considering it, something tickles my throat, and I cough a couple of times, trying to rid myself of the feeling. But it only intensifies, even as I drink more coffee and nearly choke on it.

“Mercedes?” Concern seeps into Judge’s voice as he reaches for my face. “What is it?”

My blood pressure seems to plummet as I try to shake my head, assuring him it’s nothing, but I know it’s not. A wave of dizziness moves over me, and my throat feels tight. Too tight.

I reach for my purse, recognizing the symptoms of an allergic reaction I assured him I wouldn’t have, and Judge curses.

“Oh, God,” Georgie yelps at the same time Solana gasps. “Her face.”

I’m not getting enough oxygen. That much is obvious to anyone.

“Here, let me do it.” Solana tries to come around to help, but Judge seizes me and pulls me into his lap, tilting my head back.

“Get the goddamned EpiPen.”

My vision is blurry with tears, but I can see Solana’s trembling hand as she forks it over. “I can—”

Judge doesn’t listen. He grabs the pen, jams it against my thigh, and tries to inject it. But I don’t hear the telltale click, and he seems to be fighting with it as he digs it deeper, his voice betraying an edge of panic.

“Jesus Christ, what the fuck is wrong with this thing?”

“Let me try.” I hear Georgie’s voice fading like he’s underwater.

They both start fidgeting with it and then comes the thing I really don’t want to hear.

“There’s something wrong with it,” Georgie says. “This isn’t right.”

“Fuck!” Judge roars. “I’m calling the goddamned ambulance now.”

He lays me on the shop’s floor, and I try to look up at him, try to move to tell him it’s okay, but I can’t. I’m too sluggish. My throat feels like it’s almost completely closed, and it’s all I can do to focus on trying to drag in tiny gasps of air.

“I have another one!” Solana yells. “I have one here! It’s behind the counter.”

“Get it,” Judge pleads. “Get it right now.”

9

Judge