Chapter 4

At three in the morning, my stomach seized up.

I curled into a ball and reached for the space beside me. Empty.

Marvin wasn't there.

I picked up my phone and saw the message he'd sent two hours ago.

"Looks like the Fox house got broken into. I'm going over to check. Get some sleep."

I fought through the pain, dragged myself up, and used the wall to make it to the bathroom, where I dry-heaved a few times.

Then I called 911.

At the hospital, the doctor said I needed an endoscopy, and a family member had to sign.

I lay on the gurney. The lights in the hallway were a harsh, glaring white.

I hesitated a few seconds, then called Marvin anyway.

It rang six times before he picked up.

The background was loud. Laughter. Music.

Not the sort of noise you'd hear after a break-in.

"Marvin."

"Didn't you say there was a burglary?" I asked.

"Oh. False alarm," he said.

"Since I'm already here, I'm helping Anita straighten up the place. She can't manage it on her own."

I heard Anita laughing on the other end.

"Marvin, where does this box go?"

"Just leave it, I'll carry it."

Marvin's voice came through, a little put-upon.

"Is it something urgent? If it's not, I've still got a few hours of cleaning here."

Anita's laugh drifted over the line again.

"Marvin, does this picture frame look good here?"

"Looks good. Leave it there."

"It's fine," I said. "You go ahead."

I hung up.

"Family member can't make it?" the doctor asked.

"No. I'll sign myself."

I signed my name on the consent form and pressed my thumbprint beside it.

When the endoscopy was done, the doctor said it was acute gastritis, made worse by long-term stress. I needed rest and care.

I sat on the bench in the hallway, a small bandage on the back of my hand, my face drained of color.

The doors to the ER swung open.

I looked up.

Marvin was walking in, supporting Anita.

There was an elastic bandage wrapped around her ankle. She walked slowly, but she was smiling.

"I'm fine, Marvin, you're overreacting!"

"You fell off a stool and you're saying you're fine?"

His voice was thick with worry.

"You can barely walk straight and you had to climb up on a stool to reach something."

Head down, one hand at her waist, the other clutching the check-in slip, he hurried past.

He walked right by me.

Never glanced my way once.

A nurse called out from the far end of the hall.

"Sally Sullivan! Sally Sullivan, come get your medication!"

Marvin turned at the sound, and the instant he saw me, he froze.

He instinctively pulled Anita back a step, shielding her.

"Why are you here?"

Before I could answer, he rushed on:

"Anita twisted her ankle. Let me get her in first. Go home and wait for me."

I looked at the way he had her tucked against him.

And the last thing I'd been holding on to went out.

I didn't say anything.

I pulled the IV needle from the back of my hand, pressed the cotton swab down over the spot, and walked past the two of them.

Outside the hospital doors, the night wind was cold.

I opened my phone and blocked every way Marvin had to reach me.

Messenger, calls, texts. All of it.

There was a taxi at the curb. I pulled the door open and got in.

"Airport, please."