Celia was alive today because of me.

Had Bruce killed Helene?

What did this mean about Alan? Was Margaret really in any danger? Had she been imagining Alan’s suspicious behavior?

A nurse peeked in. “Mrs. Connolly, Dr. Wong will be another fifteen to twenty minutes.”

“Okay, thank you. Can I get dressed?”

“Not yet. He’ll need to examine you again before discharge. Do you need anything? More water?”

“No. Can you tell me what room Celia . . . oh, I don’t remember her last name . . .”

“Martinez?” the nurse asked.

Martinez? Was that it?

“The woman who was brought in just before you?” the nurse asked.

I nodded.

“She’s in Room 1712. Right around the corner.” She left the room.

I spotted a pair of slipper socks on the bedside table and ripped open the plastic package. After putting them on, I left the room to locate Celia. I knocked at her door.

“Come in,” she called.

She was sitting in bed propped up with a bunch of pillows. She was pale but looked astonishingly well rested. She seemed startled to see me.

“Kate! What are you doing here?”

I approached the bed. “I came to see how you were recovering.”

“Why are you in a hospital gown?”

She offered me the only chair in the small room. I sat and recounted the events that had transpired after she had lost consciousness the best I could. When I finished, my throat was sore and raw. I imagined hers would still be also. I pushed the bedside cart/table, which had a pitcher of water and a cup with a straw on it, toward Celia. Next to the water was a business card from SFPD. I couldn’t make out the name. Celia watched me and nodded.

“Thank you,” she said, reaching for the cup.

“How are you feeling?” I asked.

“As good as can be expected.” She took a sip of water. “Oooh. It hurts to swallow!”

“I know.”

She put the cup down. “I’m happy to be alive, though.” “Have you talked to the police?” I asked.

“They were here earlier.” She indicated the card that was on the table.

I took the opportunity to take a closer look. Officer McNearny. Homicide.

Celia’s lips twisted to the right, her beautiful face becoming a hard mask. “I can’t believe Bruce tried to kill me. I would have never thought him capable of it. If you hadn’t called 9-1-1, Kate . . .” She faltered. “I can’t even go there.”

But actually I hadn’t called 9-1-1. Bruce had . . .

I recalled the hushed conversation between Bruce and Celia. I had thought something romantic could or had developed between them, but then he mentioned the pending adoption. His trying to kill her made no sense, unless he thought she knew something.

“Did you suspect anything?” I asked.

Celia pushed the buttons on the bed, first lowering herself and then overcorrecting to a sitting position. She kicked off the covers in frustration.

“I hate this stupid bed!” She rose, shuffled to the door, and looked into the hallway. She turned back to me, and her shoulders slumped. “Sorry. I don’t know when they’re supposed to release me and I’m getting anxious to go.”

I stood. “I’ll go. Dr. Wong is supposed to be checking on me soon anyway.”

“No. No, don’t go. You asked if I suspected anything.” She crossed back to the bed and jumped on top of it, opting not to get under the covers. Her delicate legs and feet dangled over the side.

I waited for her to continue.

“I didn’t outright suspect him or really even think about it until he tried to kill me. I don’t know why he would kill Helene and then try to kill me. Maybe he thought I knew something or saw something. At least that’s what the homicide cop suggested.” She looked expectantly at me. “Do you know why? Were they having marital problems?”

I shrugged. “Well, you certainly knew them better than me. All I know is Margaret told me Helene wanted kids but Bruce didn’t. But weren’t you helping them to adopt?”

Celia’s mouth clamped shut and she gripped at the covers. “Oh. Who told you about that?”

“Bruce did.”

Her grip relaxed and she released the bed cover. “Helene really wanted kids, I’d heard about this situation in Costa Rica. My second cousin . . . she’s only fifteen . . . Anyway, I was trying to help Helene and my cousin. But now that she’s gone . . .” She pressed her lips together so tightly they turned white. “That’s why I was there talking to Bruce. My cousin is ready to deliver and now