Fidelity (Infidelity #5)

My teeth ached as I clenched my jaw, afraid to turn back around, afraid to know what Eva and the box were doing. Fuck, I’d been around death more times than I could count. But this was different, even different than with Angelina.

My ex-wife had fought a good fight. I hadn’t been with her as she took her last breath. The last time I’d seen her, we’d talked. I spoke more than she, but in her eyes I saw her answers and her truths. She’d made peace with her life and her death. Though losing her too young left a hole that can never be filled, knowing that she was ready for what awaited her gave me comfort.

Adelaide wasn’t ready. I’d seen her on the footage from Magnolia Woods. The last time she’d truly been conscious, she’d pleaded with Jane to speak with Alexandria. Adelaide Montague had more life to live. This wasn’t right.

“Help me move her to the floor.”

“The oxygen…”

“I need her on a hard surface to do CPR.”

“CPR?” I asked as I cradled Adelaide’s slack body and moved her to the floor.

“Yes, the shock didn’t work.”

I took a step back as Dr. Rossi fell to her knees. With her hands locked she leaned over Adelaide and pushed on her chest, counting aloud. I contemplated helping, but didn’t know what to do. I felt completely helpless as the box began to speak again.

“Stop CPR. Analyzing.”

My knees weakened and chin dropped to my chest with the sickening realization that both of Alexandria’s parents would be dead because of me. The love of my son’s life would hate me forever. Why shouldn’t she? It wouldn’t only be her: Lennox would hate me, too. Moisture that refused to stay contained trickled down my cheeks as I imagined my confession.

Each of their deaths had been different, yet I was the common link. Russell had been business—duty—and Adelaide’s was unintentional. Yet if the move from Magnolia Woods was the trigger, it was my doing.

Could I ever make our children believe that if I’d known, I never would have moved Adelaide? I never would have forced this trip.

The cabin again filled with the high pitch.

This time I watched as her petite body jumped, landing upon the hard floor.

The doctor and I both sat motionless, waiting for the box to talk.

“Shock ineffective. Begin CPR.”

Eva turned my way. “Come here. You do the chest compressions while I administer epinephrine.”

I didn’t know what the medicine she mentioned would do, nor did I know what I was doing. Nevertheless, I did as she instructed. Kneeling where Eva had been, I held my hands together and placed them over Adelaide’s sternum. Before I compressed, I turned to the doctor. “I don’t want to hurt her.”

Her expression was solemn. “She can’t feel it.” Eva reached for my shoulder. “Fast and hard. She needs you to do this.”

I did as I’d seen, using my own weight to depress her breastbone. I understood the science, the necessity to compress the heart muscle enough to express the blood and give her body the oxygen it needed. But as my body pushed, noises like cracking cartilage and breaking bone filled my ears. With each snap and crack, the bile I’d tried to hold back rushed upward.

Swallowing quickly and repeatedly, I pressed with all my might, bouncing up and down as Eva filled a syringe.

My count had only gotten to the number ten when Eva injected the contents of the syringe into the port on Adelaide’s IV and the box spoke again.

“Stop CPR. Analyzing.”

In the few seconds that followed I recalled my vow. Alexandria could hate me forever, because it wouldn’t only be her father and mother whose deaths would be on my hands. It would be her stepfather’s too. Singlehandedly, I’d be responsible for the loss of her entire family.

We both scooted back as the high-pitched noise rose higher and longer, echoing throughout the cabin. Again Adelaide’s body flopped. I poised myself to continue the CPR. The procedure was more taxing than I’d imagined, but I didn’t give a damn. I’d keep doing it until we landed if I needed to.

“Shock successful. Monitor respirations.”

My eyes opened wider as I looked to Dr. Rossi. The box had spoken a different message.

“What does that mean?”

She lowered the stethoscope to Adelaide’s chest as her facade shattered and she let out a long sigh. “She has a heartbeat.” The doctor inclined her head lower, her cheek near Adelaide’s face.

Without missing a beat, Eva plugged Adelaide’s nose, tilted her chin upward, and blew into her mouth. Two breaths and she’d stop. With each breath Adelaide’s chest rose and fell.

“Go get the oxygen.”

“I-I didn’t find it.”

“Look!” she shouted just before her lips again covered Adelaide’s.