Chapter 27
NOW
“Persephone!”
Roxanne is screaming Persephone’s name. It’s pure and ragged and for a moment, it’s all that exists.
I hear footsteps on the cobblestones. I assume this is the sound of my attackers running away.
Peter is shouting for someone to call an ambulance.
I open my eyes, but they are filled with blood.
I wipe liquid from my eyes and my nose and my mouth.
I try to sit up, but the woman at my side—Libby!
Libby!—stops me. “Don’t move, Elsie. The ambulance is coming. ”
“The child,” I say to Libby, so softly I’m not sure she’ll hear. “Is she …”
I hear Roxanne’s desperate voice. “Tell me where it hurts, baby. Persephone? Tell me.”
The pause seems to last an eternity. But finally, she speaks. “I’m not hurt. Stop it, Mum. Is Elsa …” Persephone appears in my vision line. “Elsa!” She wraps her arms around me, nearly crushing me. “Elsa! You’re not dead.”
“Neither are you!” I say.
Peter drops to his knees beside me and clasps my hand. “Ambulance is on its way, Elsie. Hang in there.” I lock eyes with him.
“What hurts, Elsie?” Roxanne says.
“I don’t know. My wrist?” I break my gaze with Peter and look at my wrist. It’s bent at a funny angle.
“Where is the blood coming from?” she asks. “Did they shoot you?”
I look down at myself. There’s so much blood. Too much. My tailbone stings from where it hit the cobblestones, as does my left wrist, which I extended to break my fall. But I’m unaware of a wound that could be causing so much blood.
“I think it was a water pistol,” Adeem says.
I look down at the dark red liquid on my clothes. “But …”
“Filled with blood,” he says. “I’ve seen it before. Happens at family planning clinics every once in a while.”
“Real blood?” I say. It certainly smells and feels like it. “Where would they get real blood?”
Adeem shrugs. This appears to be the end of his expertise on the matter.
“Right then.” I lie back against the cobblestones. “Cancel the ambulance.”
“Nonsense,” Roxanne says. “You had a fall. And your wrist is broken.”
“I’m fine!” I say more firmly. “No ambulance.”
The Nguyens look on worriedly, and Joan stands a few meters away, not speaking, but watching with interest.
“Did you hit your head?” Roxanne says.
“No. Just my tailbone. And my wrist.”
The ambulance arrives, and they disregard my efforts to send them away. Even Persephone has to go in to be looked over. Peter gets in with me, which is kind of him. The Nguyens offer to look after Nugget, which is stupid of them.
Before they close the back doors, I notice Joan is standing quietly on her porch. Her normally suspicious, darting eyes are downcast. Perhaps I’m imagining things, but she almost looks like she’s ashamed.