Eternities later, she jumped over the last step, rounded the corner and flew into the bathroom, following the hushed whisper of James' voice.

Then she was on the floor, her vision nothing but black with bright silver sparks in the periphery as she slipped and her head hit the edge of the bathtub. Why was the floor covered in water? She tried to sit up, but her hands were slick and slid helplessly on the tiles.

The moment before her vision cleared she smelled pennies -- copper. Had she hit her head too hard? Was she having a stroke? No, that would be tasting pennies, not smelling them. Or was that a myth?

She wiped her hands off on her pant legs. Whatever was covering the floor was too thick and sticky to be water. And then she realized that what she smelled was blood. A lot of it. Had she hit her head that hard?

James came into focus. He was sitting in the corner, holding Emily. Mary looked down at the floor in horror -- a flood of bright red. Emily was covered in it. James was holding both her wrists above her head. Mary began shaking violently, uncontrollably.

James: "Mary, I need for you to stay calm. Have you called for an ambulance?"

Mary shook her head, but the voice that came out of her throat said "Yes."

James: "Good, now I need for you to find me some more towels."

Mary saw that James had a bath towel around one of Emily's wrists and a smaller hand towel around the other. The small towel was already completely soaked through. The only coherent thought that unfurled from her blind panic was to curse Emily for not being able to bother hanging her bath towels up after using them. If she did, the responsibility of soaking up Emily's life wouldn't have fallen to an under-qualified hand towel.

James: "I need something more substantial than this to stop the bleeding. Mary? Mary? Are you with me? Come on, Mary Jo, you always know just what to do, remember? I need you with me now. Emily needs you."

Mary was still shaking, pushing herself backwards toward the door, unable to stand up. Every muscle in her body was failing as if she was the one bleeding to death on the bathroom floor.

James: "Mary, I'm going to let go of Emily now. She's going to start bleeding again. You're going to have to apply pressure to stop it. Both of her wrists. I'll be right back."

James stood up, carefully stepping around Emily. He kept hold of one wrist above her head as he laid the other in her lap, watching Mary closely. No sooner had he let go than the blood began to flow freely again. Mary was across the room in an instant, taking both of Emily's wrists, holding them awkwardly above her head, pressing the useless towel against the wounds as tightly as she could, rocking back and forth, sobbing.

Mary: "Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh Emily. Emily, Emily, Emily . . . what happened, where are you, what happened . . . please don't leave, please don't leave. You can't leave. Please listen to me."

James returned moments later with an armful of towels. Unable to pry Mary's hands from Emily's wrists, he wrapped the dry towels tightly around the bloody unit of Mary and Emily's arms, then slid behind Mary. He held both girls as he squeezed as tightly around Emily's wrists as he could without breaking anyone's bones. Mary had gone as limp as Emily was, save the convulsing of her body as she cried, loud and unrelenting. He gritted his teeth and wished the ambulance Godspeed.

Moments later, his wish was answered. There was virtually no pause between the first sounds of wailing sirens and footsteps thundering up the stairs.

Markus: "Jesus, what happened?"
James: "Both wrists, I don't know what she used. There hasn't been time to look."
Mary: "What she used?! You think she did this to herself?"

Markus: "Mary, we'll figure that out later. For now I need you out of here."
Mary: "No!"
Markus: "Mary, get the hell out of this room, right now."

A second EMT was taking Emily's wrists from James while Markus forcibly removed Mary from the bathroom.

Markus: "Keep her out of my way. You can bring her to Whidbey General after we leave. An officer is already en route--they're going to want to investigate."

James pulled Mary away from the entrance to the bathroom, into her own bedroom.

Mary: "Let go of me! Let go!"
James: "Mary, you have to let them do their jobs."

James pulled Mary to him and crushed her against his chest until she stopped struggling. When her knees gave out, he crumpled to the floor with her. He was almost grateful that she was hysterical--it meant he could be the strong one, that he had something meaningful to do. He held her tighter, knowing that under ordinary circumstances the tightness of his embrace would be causing her pain. But under these circumstances, it was the kind of pain that brought comfort.

Just when Mary had gone quiet, the door burst open.

Markus: "We're taking her to the hospital now but I need to know what she was taking."
James: "Taking?"
Markus: "Her airway was constricted--unrelated to the trauma. She was on something."
James: "Valium, I think. Check her nightstand."
Markus: "Got it. You're going to need to get a hold of her next of--of a family member."