Chapter 2
The room suddenly felt colder.
Daniel called ahead.
He spoke in clipped language I only half understood.
Possible sepsis.
Acute deterioration.
High fever.
Hypotension.
Tachycardia.
He ended the call.
My father was reaching for his own phone.
“I’ll have the driver—”
“No.”
Daniel looked at him.
“Ambulance.”
“The hospital is twenty minutes away.”
“She could become unstable in two.”
For the first time in my life, my father obeyed another man immediately.
The ambulance came through the rain with blue lights painting the snowbanks outside our estate.
Everything after that became noise and fragments.
Straps.
Plastic tubing.
Cold air.
My mother holding my hand.
My father standing beneath the chandelier speaking urgently into a phone.
Daniel climbing into the ambulance with me.
A paramedic asking him whether he was family.
Daniel hesitated.
“No.”
Then he looked at me.
“But I’m staying.”
The doors closed.
I remember staring at his face while the vehicle moved.
“Daniel?”
“I’m here.”
“I’m cold.”
He adjusted the blankets.
“I know.”
“I was burning ten minutes ago.”
“I know.”
His jaw was tight.
That was when I understood something.
Daniel Mercer was scared.
Not professionally concerned.
Not clinically alert.
Scared.
“Why do you look like that?”
His eyes flicked toward mine.
“Like what?”
“Like you know something you’re not telling me.”
The ambulance rocked.
His gaze held mine.
Then he said, “Because I’ve seen this happen before.”
Before I could ask where, my vision went dark.
When I woke again, everything smelled like antiseptic.
Machines hummed somewhere to my left.
My throat felt raw.
Daniel was standing near the end of my hospital bed.
Different clothes.
Same coat.
Same exhausted face.
“You really need a hobby,” I whispered.
He turned so quickly he nearly knocked over a chair.
“Emily?”
“Unless you have another unconscious heiress.”
He closed his eyes.
Relief crossed his face with such force that something inside me softened.
“How long?”
“Fourteen hours.”
My mother rose from a sofa near the wall.
“Oh, sweetheart.”
She came immediately.
Kissed my hair.
Held my face.
Her eyes were swollen from crying.
“Where’s Dad?”
She hesitated.
“Downstairs.”
“Working?”
“No.”
That surprised me.
Daniel approached.
“You became septic.”
The word landed heavily.
“We started broad-spectrum antibiotics and IV fluids.
Your pressure responded.”
“What caused it?”
“We’re waiting on cultures.”
“Can I die?”
My mother inhaled sharply.
Daniel did not lie.
“You were very sick.”
“Past tense?”
“So far.”
I looked toward the window.
Night had fallen again.
Boston lights glowed in the distance.
“Have you been here the entire time?”
Daniel rubbed one hand over his face.
“Yes.”
“Are all doctors this annoying?”
“No.
I’m unusually gifted.”
My mother gave a shaky laugh.
For a moment everything felt almost normal.
Then a nurse entered with a clipboard.
“Dr.
Mercer?”
Daniel stepped into the corridor.
The nurse whispered something.
His whole body changed.
He looked back at me through the glass.
Then at my mother.
My mother saw it too.
“What?”
Daniel returned.
“What did they find?”
He closed the door.
“The preliminary blood culture identified a bacterium.”
“That’s good, isn’t it?
Now you know what to treat.”
“Yes.”
“But?”
He looked at my mother.
“Mrs.
Whitmore, where was Emily yesterday afternoon?”
“At home.”
“Did she have any medical procedure?”
“No.”
“Injections?”
“No.”
“IV treatment?”
“No.”
“Dental work?”
“No.”
I pushed myself higher.
“What bacteria?”
Daniel pulled a chair toward the bed.
“The organism itself can occur naturally.
But the concentration and one other finding are unusual.”
“What finding?”
He hesitated.
“The lab detected a compound in your blood that suppresses inflammatory response.”
I stared at him.
“English.”
“It can temporarily lower fever and mask worsening infection.”
My mother sat down slowly.
I felt the room shrink.
“Are you saying I took medication?”
“No.”
“Then what are you saying?”
May you like
Daniel’s voice became very careful.
“I’m saying I don’t think you became sick naturally.”
