She was vaguely aware of Abigail sitting across the room, staring at her expressionlessly. Mary ignored her. She knew that if she met Abigail's gaze, she would be acknowledging her presence, and Abigail's presence seemed always to signal something bad. She fought the desire to haul the old lady out to the parking lot and smash her into the pavement. Instead, she began chipping away at her nail polish, trying to peel off the entire nail in one shot. She imagined that if she could accomplish this and be left with a single oval of lacquer, then she could have a wish and Emily would be okay.

They had arrived at the hospital seconds after the ambulance. Mary had watched them wheel Emily in. Markus had been on top of her, while another paramedic had been pushing the gurney so quickly it was comical. She'd started giggling, picturing them rounding a corner too fast, Markus flying off, Emily spurting blood. Years from now it would be hysterical, she reasoned. The stories they'd tell!

Emily had disappeared behind a set of double doors. They wouldn't let any of them follow her. A moment later a nurse emerged and asked Mary a battery of questions. Mary couldn't even wrap her head around what was being asked, let alone what the answers might be. She watched the nurse's mouth carefully, trying to read her lips to no avail.

James used the distraction to slip through the double doors. Mary hadn't even seen him go, and didn't miss his presence until the nurse, finally ending the interrogation, led her to a large waiting room.

And there she sat. Waiting. The TV was just a hair too quiet to hear and was permanently stuck on CNN. The same headlines wrapped around the bottom of the screen, over and over. Mary wondered where Emily's headline was. She looked around and realized that, save Abigail, none of these people knew Emily. It was ridiculous to think they wouldn't even notice her absence.

Mary shook her head and let the buzzing of the fluorescent lights fill her thoughts. She wondered how much energy she had used panicking and crying; she was exhausted, tired to the bone. There couldn't possibly be anything left, she was comfortably numb. She closed her eyes, enjoying the burning of swollen lids against corneas.