out, and drank from the water bottle. She eased down on her side, her head in the pillow, and Mark covered her with the sheet.
“I was at a meeting tonight, for Jill’s 5K. Remember, I told you, everyone’s excited about seeing you.”
“I can’t go.” Linda had already told him.
“Lin, you have to.”
“I can’t possibly.”
“Fran’s expecting you. She’s looking forward to seeing you. Jim tore his rotator cuff. That’s why she hasn’t been to visit.” Mark got into bed, and Linda turned to face him, but couldn’t see him in the dark.
“Say I can’t come, she’ll understand. It’s the drugs, we need to change the dosage again, it’s too much or maybe too little—”
“I called the doctor. We have an appointment next week. All I’m asking is that you go to Jill’s 5K. You don’t have to do anything else.”
“But it’s the day she died, it’s the day.” Linda couldn’t understand why she had to explain. “Can’t you move it?”
“No, I told you, it was the only weekend I could get the permit for, and they have to have police and an ambulance, by law. The Fourth of July is coming up, and if we wait until August, everyone will be on vacation.”
“But on the day? The very day?”
“Make lemons into lemonade. It’s a memorial run. It’s a tribute to Jill, a celebration. Don’t you want to celebrate her life? That we loved her, that we had her for as long as we did? She was a blessing, you know that. A blessing.”
Linda couldn’t ignore the judgment in his voice, feeling worse. She didn’t want to celebrate her daughter’s life on the anniversary of her death, and she didn’t want to celebrate her by running. She wanted to stay in bed and sleep. She was in too much pain. Jill had wanted to live, not become a 5K, but Mark had set a goal after Jill died, to make sure it didn’t happen to another child, to make sure Jill didn’t die in vain, when Linda knew that really, truly, that was exactly what had happened. Jill died for nothing. Like Allie said, Jill died for air.
“You can do it, Lin. I’ll help you.”
“How is Allie? Are you taking care of Allie?”
“You asked me that already, and I told you. She’s fine, she’s great, she’s enjoying the summer.”
Linda could only pray that Allie was okay and that Mark was in charge. She felt her eyes close, and Allie’s sweet, round face emerged out of the darkness, but Allie wasn’t smiling. She was crying on her bed, calling Jill, Jill, and Linda hugged her while they both cried.
Linda turned over miserably, curling up as tears slid from underneath her eyelids. She wasn’t herself anymore. She needed to be gone for a while longer, until she got to be herself again and the dosages got fixed and the pain stopped and she came back from the darkness into the light.
“I’m trying, Allie,” Linda whispered, just before she fell asleep.
CHAPTER 18
Daphne Barrow
Daphne sank into the magnificent four-poster bed, which was covered with a thick duvet, a brocade coverlet, and shams with gold tassels. She breathed deeply, inhaling the perfumed air of the suite. Her gaze wandered over the crystal lamps, provincial antiques, and heavy brocade curtains flanking the doors to the balcony. The curtains were open, but Daphne had been to Paris three times this month, so she didn’t bother to look.
She wanted to shower and change for the conference, so she slid off her Roger Vivier pumps and set them side by side on the cotton mat beside the bed. She slipped her stocking feet into a fresh pair of terry-cloth slippers with the hotel crest on them, even though she still had her pantyhose on. Rugs were a source of bacteria in hotels, even one as world-class as the George V.
Daphne unfastened her gold Rolex and set it atop the night table, followed by her pièce de résistance, a Jean Schlumberger sunflower-yellow cloisonné bracelet. She wore it with a silk ecru blouse and a Chanel suit in gold tweed, albeit from last season. She was striking, tall, and lithe, with her hair in a trademark blond chignon, accessorized with heavy gold earrings. She was often mistaken for a model, at least when she was younger. Daphne was a partner in the International Arbitration Group at Lovell Wheeler, some forty-five lawyers in New York, Los Angeles, London, Paris, Berlin, Rome, Beijing, and Dubai.
Daphne realized she had forgotten to call her daughter this week,