Mr. and Mrs. Fiorello arrive, leaving me terrified Lili’s going to tell them what really happened. She doesn’t. Instead, she clutches them, sobbing into their chests. They sit a few chairs away from us, fidgeting, staring at paperback books without turning the pages. Mrs. Fiorello has curlers in her hair, and Mr. Fiorello is wearing shoes that look suspiciously like bedroom slippers. Then again, it is almost one in the morning.
About a half hour into the wait, Lili jumps up and approaches one of the triage women behind the thick panes of glass. Mrs. Fiorello follows her; Mr. Fiorello leans his head back on the chair and closes his eyes. When the woman tells Lili she can’t see her sister for the fifth time, Lili screams, “What if Gabby’s dead? What if she needs my blood?”
Laurel bursts into tears. Madeline bites off the last of her manicure. Charlotte keeps making these gagging, puffed-cheeks faces like she’s about to throw up.
“I’m sorry,” I say quietly to them, knowing that they’re all privately thinking that I’m a huge bitch. “I didn’t know this would . . .”
“Just shut up about it, okay?” Charlotte hisses, digging her nails into her thighs. “Don’t make me regret not saying anything to the cops.”
A balding, middle-aged male doctor in blue scrubs and a surgical cap emerges through the ER doors, spies Lili and her mom, and walks to them. Mr. Fiorello and the four of us jump up and rush to their side. My stomach churns. The doctor’s face is drawn, as though he’s about to deliver bad news. He clicks and unclicks a pen and twists his mouth. “You’re Gabriella Fiorello’s family?” he asks. Lili’s parents nod. Mr. Fiorello wraps his arms around Mrs. Fiorello and Lili’s shoulders, pulling them tight.
“Gabriella had what’s called a grand mal seizure,” the doctor says. “It’s when the electrical activity over the surface of the brain is altered. She’s a little shaken up, but she’s resting now and is doing just fine.”
Lili’s eyes are round. “She’s fine? But why did she have a seizure?”
On and off goes the pen with nonstop clicks. “A seizure can be caused by an infection, but we tested her blood, and she showed no signs of infection. It can also be caused by a brain tumor, but we’ve done an MRI to rule out that possibility. More than likely—”
“What about fear?” Lili cuts him off.
The doctor’s eyebrows shoot up questioningly.
“Can a seizure happen out of fear?” Lili asks. “Like if someone really, really scared her?” She turns and looks pointedly at me. I shrink down a little in my shoes.
“That’s very unlikely,” the doctor says. “We think Gabriella has epilepsy. She’s probably had it since birth, but the disease can lay dormant in people for a long time before manifesting itself. Why it chose tonight to rear its ugly head, we’ll never know.”
“Epilepsy?” Lili repeats, looking like she doesn’t believe him. “But . . . that’s, like, a serious disease! Only freaks have epilepsy!”
“Lilianna.” Mrs. Fiorello shoots Lili an irritated look.
“That’s not true,” the doctor says gently. “Epilepsy is very manageable. Many patients who have it don’t ever suffer a grand mal seizure again. But to make sure, Gabriella will have to be on medication for the rest of her life. We’re lucky she didn’t have a seizure when she was driving a car, or when she was somewhere alone. It’s great that all five of you were with her and knew to call an ambulance.”
I sneak a peek at the others, wondering if they’re going to speak up. The ambulance wasn’t called because of Gabby, after all, but because I’d stalled the car on the tracks. But no one says a word.
The Fiorello parents nod, taking this in, and thank the doctor. He gestures to the swinging white doors. “You can go see her now if you want. She’s a little sleepy, but she’s been asking for you.”
We shove through the ER doors, pass a nurses’ station and a couple of empty beds, and find Gabby on a small cot in a curtained-off cubicle. She’s dressed in a faded, polka-dotted hospital gown, and her face is pale and drawn.
Lili runs to Gabby and throws her arms around her, making the bedsprings squeak. “I’m so glad you’re okay,”
she whispers, her voice choked with tears.
“I’m totally fine,” Gabby says, looking exhausted but okay.
After she hugs her parents, she gives us a small smile.
“Hey, guys.”
We each hug Gabby. Her body feels so tiny under the thin hospital gown. Then we hug each other, all of us filled with relief and gratitude and nervous energy. Lili even hugs me, squeezing me tight. “Mark my words,” she murmurs into my ear. “The prank might have ended okay, but Gabby and I are going to get you. You aren’t going to know when, you aren’t going to know where, but we’ll get you back one way or another.”
I wave my hand dismissively. The Twitter Twins, pranking me? Right. I’m no longer that scared, needy girl from the waiting room. I’m Sutton Mercer again, the girl everyone looks up to. The girl everyone fears. The girl who gets away with everything.
“I’d like to see you try,” I challenge.
Lili doesn’t blink. “Game on, Sutton.”
“Game on,” I answer back.
Chapter 31
Clever Little Bitches
“Please,” Emma whispered as Lili loomed close, her body weak from Lili’s choke hold and the lack of oxygen. “Please don’t hurt me.”