Twenty-Eight
THE THREE OF US RUSH to where the bonfire is still sending sparks into the night. Martin gets there first and goes straight to Mae. She’s still standing, looking down at her stomach.
In the firelight, I see the blood staining her white blouse.
“You bastard!” I hear someone scream nearby. I turn in time to see Helen pull Dominic Trent off of a figure on the ground. It’s hard to tell, but it looks like someone wearing a Grim Reaper costume.
Helen lets Dominic go, and the young man turns toward Mae and Martin, just as the trauma surgeon says loudly but without panic, “Dominic, get my bag.” He tosses the keys to his car to Dominic as he says this. Dominic catches them in mid-flight and dashes towards Martin’s Porsche. I pull out my phone to call 911 and am giving the operat
