I, Alex Cross (Alex Cross 16)

I flopped down on the love seat across from her. “Am I that obvious all the time?”

“Only to the initiated. All right, tell me what happened. Talk to me.”

If this were any other case, I would have pleaded exhaustion, but Nana deserved to know about it. Still, I kept the details down to a PG rating;

there was no need to overemphasize the dark side of Caroline’s life. Nana knew, I was sure. She always seemed to, somehow.

By the time I got to the part about the geeky lawyer with the “motion to quash,” I started getting worked up all over again. I’d just wasted a whole night, and I’d run out on Ali and Jannie to do it.

“I think Jannie has that pouting, cold-shoulder thing down pat, though,” I said. “How were they after I left?”

“Oh, you know. They’ll survive,” she said, but then added, “Assuming that’s all you need them to do.”

It was like a pat on the head and a smack on the cheek at the same time. Pure Nana Mama.

“So that was your twin sister waving me out the door last night? Telling me it was all good. See, I could have sworn it was you.”

“Now, don’t get defensive on me, Alex.” She sat up a little straighter and cricked her neck, massaging it on one side. “I’m just saying, the children don’t always care why you’re gone, Alex. They just know that you are. Especially little Damon.”

“You mean Ali.”

“That’s what I said, isn’t it? The boy’s only six, after all.”

I leaned in for a better look at her. “How much sleep did you get last night?”

She made her pssh sound. “Old people don’t need sleep. It’s one of the secret advantages. Reason I can still whip you in a debate. Now, help me up and I’ll start some coffee. You look like you could use it.”

I had a hand on her elbow and she was halfway up, when she stopped suddenly and sagged a little.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Nothing. I just, um…”

At first she looked confused. Then all at once, her face creased with pain and she doubled over in my arms. Before I could even get her back down again, she’d passed out.

Oh God, no.

Her small body was like nothing to hold in my arms. I laid her gently on the love seat and felt for a pulse at her neck. There was none.

“Nana? Can you hear me? Nana?”

My heart was flying now. The doctors at St. Anthony’s had told me the signs to look for—no movement, no breath, and she just lay there, horribly still.

Nana was in cardiac arrest.

Chapter 48

IT WAS ANOTHER nightmare—the EMTs in the house, the blur of the ambulance ride, questions at the emergency room. Then the terrible waiting.

I stayed with Nana all day and all night at St. Anthony’s. She’d survived the heart attack, which was about as much as anyone would say for now.

They had her on a ventilator to help her breathe, with a tube taped over her mouth. There was a clip on her finger to measure her oxygen level, and an IV to keep the medications coming. More wires ran from Nana’s chest to a heart monitor by the bed, its pulsing lines like some kind of electronic vigil. I hated that screen and relied on it at the same time.

Friends and relatives came and went all day and into the evening. Aunt Tia was there with some of my cousins, and then Sampson and Billie. Bree brought the kids, but they weren’t allowed in, which was just as well. They’d seen more than enough at home when the ambulance had come and taken Nana away again.

And then there were the “necessary” conversations. Different staff members wanted to talk to me about the DNR order in her file, about options regarding hospice, about religious affiliation, all just in case. Just in case what—Nana never woke up?

No one tried to chase me out after visiting hours, as if they could, but I appreciated the consideration. I sat with my forearms on the edge of the bed, sometimes to rest my head, other times to pray for Nana.