Em tried calling to tell Gabby that she was on her way, but there was no answer. Gabby was probably furious, and screening her calls. When she arrived at the house, Gabby’s car was in the driveway and her light was still on. Good. She was still awake.
But there was no response when she rang the bell, or when she knocked on the door, or when she called Gabby’s cell (again), or when she dialed the Doves’ house line. She could hear it ringing inside, jangling. “Gabby?” Em yelled up at the house. Her heart started thumping, low and hard against her rib cage. This wasn’t Gabby ignoring her. Something was wrong. She could sense it.
She made her way around to the back door, which she knew would be unlocked. She stepped into the Doves’ huge kitchen. “Gabs?” No response, her voice echoing against the stainless steel.
She walked around to the front hall and started up the stairs. “Gabby?” She repeated Gabby’s name over and over like a mantra.
Em pushed open Gabby’s bedroom door slowly. It swished against the carpet. At first that was all Em saw—carpet, and Gabby’s bed, and all the usual stuff. The smell of perfume in the air. And then, a foot. A bare foot with painted toenails. Gabby’s.
Gabby was lying there, her breaths shallow, her face horribly puffy and swollen. Like bee-stung flesh. Like bread left in a bowl of water.
Em knew instantly what was going on: Gabby was having an allergic reaction. This was bad. Really bad.
“Gabby? Gabby! Wake up!” She barked at Gabby as she grabbed for her cell phone, hands shaking, and dialed 911. She knelt down and put her ear right up against Gabby’s distended lips to make sure that she was still breathing. There was only the faintest breath, hot and thin against her skin.
“Yes, there’s a girl here, 261 Allen Drive—I think she’s having an allergic reaction,” Em wept into the phone at the emergency dispatcher. “Please. Come. Come soon.” Where was her Epi-pen? Em started rifling through Gabby’s things, throwing stuff out of her nightstand drawer, dumping the contents of her bag on the floor. Nothing.
And as she ripped through Gabby’s belongings, hot tears welling in her eyes, she began to hear girlish, catty laughter ringing through the air. Satisfied giggles that came from some unidentifiable place. Inside the house. Or maybe outside. Or maybe from within Em. It was impossible to tell.
As she gripped Gabby’s hand, rocking back and forth on crouched legs and waiting for the ambulance to show up, only one thought raced through her mind: Somehow, some way, the Furies had something to do with this, too.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Skylar smelled flowers long before she reached Gabby’s room in the hospital. The scent was thick, overripe, like walking into a garden in mid-July, and it made her dizzy. She stopped for a moment to regain her composure.
She felt terrible, of course, for what had happened to Gabby. She’d almost died. Skylar put her hand against the wall to steady herself. I didn’t know. She kept telling herself that, over and over. She’d had no idea that Gabby was that allergic to shellfish! She’d thought it was, like, a few hives. A little rash. Not this. She never would have . . . not in a million years . . .
I didn’t know. It wasn’t my fault.
Gabby had been in the hospital for more than sixteen hours. She’d gone into anaphylactic shock—been almost unable to breathe, puffed up like a balloon.
And it was all Skylar’s fault.
Skylar had had to force herself to visit. It would seem weird if she didn’t. Fiona, Jenna, Sean—they’d all called, asking if she wanted to ride with them, but she’d declined. Instead, she’d had Aunt Nora drive her over. She felt so ashamed. And terrified. She didn’t want to be around anyone else, anyone who might discover her horrible secret. So there she was, alone in the busy hospital hallway, her stomach churning with nerves.
Skylar rounded the corner, and then stopped short. She had a clear view down the corridor to room 125. And honestly, it looked like a freaking florist, with bouquets and flower arrangements on every surface. Skylar could also see at least eight people from Ascension, all huddled around Gabby’s bed. Her friends. Gabby’s friends.