There’s a commotion in the hallway, and I close my eyes to shut it out. It doesn’t go away, though; it gets louder. Voices filter through the fog in my head like rays of too-bright sun.
“The ER is downstairs!”
“She’s not here to see a doctor,” says a haggard voice in a smooth accent I recognize. “She’s here to visit someone. Room three hundred forty-two.”
That’s where I’m sitting, except why would Hugo have come with Bea? Oh God. I rush into the hallway in time to see my good friend retch into a waste bin. “I’m fine,” she mumbles, clearly miserable. And very pregnant. “Ignore me. I’m fine.”
“Oh my God.” I lean down to stroke her red hair. “I hate you right now. I can’t believe you left the hotel for this. You shouldn’t have, but I love you.”
She laughs weakly. “I thought I could make
