Chapter 4

The afternoon Ella secretly forwarded me the file from Gigi's attending physician, I sat and stared at the resuscitation records for a long time. Then I sent them to my lawyer.

Over the next few days, my condition slid downhill, visibly.

Nathan gave me a shot every morning and every night, and I never refused a single one. But I had pushed my own dose to the maximum too.

The two forces slammed against each other. By day my whole body swelled up; by night the heat burned in the seams of my bones.

Especially after the injection that morning. For one instant everything went white, and then I felt myself drained hollow, sinking straight down.

When I opened my eyes again, the emergency was already over.

Nathan's voice seemed to come from somewhere far away, tight with fury. "Exactly how much did you give her? Her heart rate dropped to forty! I only told you to keep her in that state. I never told you to kill her!"

Roberta gave no ground. "You think she stays quiet if I don't use that dose?"

"So what if she dies! You play the devoted husband at her bedside every single day. If you never end it, when are we ever going to get married?"

"Roberta, shut up!"

Slowly, I opened my eyes.

Nathan had his back to me, his chest heaving. The second he saw I was awake, he spun around and all but threw himself at the bed, gripping my hand.

"Sweetie, you're awake? God, you scared me. What happened, why did you pass out just now?"

I eased my hand out of his, my voice very calm. "Nathan, help me call the family in. There's something I want to discuss."

Nathan suspected nothing.

Two hours later, the room was full of people.

Mom and Dad sat at the foot of the bed, dabbing at their eyes, as if I were already a dying woman.

My in-laws had come too, standing against the wall, saying nothing.

And Roberta, as my attending physician and "dear friend," was there as well, naturally.

"Everyone's here, Sweetie. Whatever it is you want to say, go ahead."

I nodded, and without any fuss I took out the hair tie Gigi used to wear, turning it over in my fingers, my flat gaze passing over each of them.

"Last night, Gigi came to me in a dream."

"She said someone was putting something bad into Mommy's body. She told me to stop the treatment. If it went on, she said, I would die."

The moment I finished, every face in the room turned into something you could write a book about.

Nathan pressed his lips into a thin line.

Roberta gave a visible start.

My father turned to look at me, barely holding himself together. "Sweetie, what exactly are you trying to say? You're not well, everyone came here because they care about you, and you're using a dead child as an excuse..."

"Since when do dreams like that mean anything?"

"Dad! You're still going to play dumb, even now?"

I cut him off and pulled out another stack of documents. "This is Gigi's death certificate. And the resuscitation records."

The room went silent.

Nathan reached out to take them. I twisted my wrist, and the papers slipped past his hand.

"Nathan. Two years you've been playing me. Was it fun?"