He pulled me up by my good arm, forcing me to stand.
“Can you walk?” he asked, his voice returning to that flat, professional tone he used when a contract went wrong.
I nodded, though the hallway seemed to tilt to the left.
He kept his hand under my elbow, guiding me out to the driveway before the morning sun could reach the salt cedars by the fence.
The leather seat of the sedan was cold against the back of my legs.
Daniel backed out of the driveway without using his turn signal, his eyes darting to the rearview mirror.
“We are going to Valley Memorial,” he said, turning the steering wheel hard as we hit Central Avenue.
The air conditioner blew cold air directly onto my face, smelling of old dust and leather.
“There is a toy on the third step,” Daniel said, his index finger tapping the steering wheel. “The plastic horse Madison left out yesterday.”
I looked out the window at the brick houses passing by, the green lawns turning brown at the edges.
“We are going to tell them you tripped on the third step, and you will agree,” he said.
I looked down at his wrist, where his heavy gold watch sat against his cuffs.
The second hand was perfectly still.
The black arrows pointed to exactly 6:42.
“Your watch,” I said, my voice barely louder than the hum of the tires. “It stopped.”
“The battery is dead,” he said, not looking at me. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Patricia didn’t call the doctor,” I said. “She called your partner.”
“She did what was necessary,” Daniel said.
He accelerated through a yellow light, his knuckles turning white on the steering wheel.
“If people start asking questions, the project on Northern Avenue goes under,” he said. “We cannot afford a scene.”
The hospital signs appeared, red and white against the gray morning sky.
Daniel turned into the emergency bay, parking the car in the lane marked for unloading.
He turned the engine off, and the sudden quiet in the car felt heavy.
“You slipped,” he said, his voice dropping into that smooth, gentle register he used with clients. “You were carrying a basket of laundry, and you didn’t see the toy.”
He reached across the console and took my hand.
His fingers tightened around my wrist like a band of cold iron as the sliding glass doors of the emergency room parted.
