“Holy cow.”I pressed my chest again.It was getting uncomfortably tight.“Poor Billy.And poor Callie.I wonder if she knew about the rumors.”
“Are you okay?”Gilly’s face pinched with worry.“That’s the third or fourth time I’ve seen you touch your chest today.Are you having pain?”
“Nothing bad,” I told her.“I’m sure it’s just stress.Maybe a little indigestion.”
“You should get it checked out.”
“I’m fine.”I brushed off her suggestion.“What about the recording of Callie telling Billy she’d kill him on the podcast you listen to.”
“A total fabrication,” Pippa stated, her face incredulous.She threw up her hands.“They used AI to fake the voices.”
“God, I hate AI,” I said.“It’s the worst.”My neck felt uncomfortably warm and tense.“Maybe I should go to the medical clinic.”
Both my friends were out of their chairs.
“Don’t make a fuss,” I told them.“It’s probably the birria tacos.They really were spicy.”
“See,” Pippa said.“Not a wimp or a weenie.”
They linked their arms in mine, and together, our dynamic trio headed to the nearest elevator.
ChapterEleven
Doctor Patel, who had been called to the Resplendent Retreat the night before to examine Sebastian’s body and declare the time of death, was on duty.His eyebrows lifted slightly when he saw me walk through the clinic doors, flanked by Gilly and Pippa.
“Mrs.Black, isn’t it?”he asked, watching as my friends guided me to a chair.
I didn’t bother to correct him, Ms., not Mrs., because frankly, I was too uncomfortable to care.
“We think she might be having a heart attack,” Gilly blurted, her voice edged with panic.
“I’m not having a heart attack,” I insisted, though their concern had started to wear on me, making the ache in my chest and neck tighten even more.
“When did it start?”the doctor asked as he pulled a stethoscope from a drawer.
“I’m not sure,” I admitted.“I’ve felt a little off all day.There’s been some pressure, but I figured it was stress.”
“Understandable,” he said with a nod.“I’m sure last night was difficult for you.”
He placed the stethoscope’s cold metal end to my chest and listened, humming thoughtfully as he moved it around.Once he was done, he grabbed an electric blood pressure cuff connected to a monitor, along with a pulse oximeter.
I felt like an idiot.“It’s probably just indigestion.I’ve been indulging in a lot of rich food since we boarded.”
“That’s possible,” Dr.Patel acknowledged, “but better safe than sorry.I’ll do an EKG, as well.Lower the collar of your shirt for me.”
I tugged down the scoop neck on my shirt, and he attached a cardiac pad, a sticky white circle with a metal nipple on the left side of my upper chest.
“Raise your shirt on the left side,” he directed.When I did, he stuck another pad on my ribs to the side of my heart.After, he took some wires from below the monitor and attached them to the pads.“There,” he said.“All done.”
While the cuff inflated, squeezing my arm uncomfortably, I decided to ask the question burning in my mind.“So, Doc, did you find out what really happened to Sebastian?It wasn’t drowning, right?”
His eyes narrowed slightly.“No.Not drowning.There was no water in his lungs.If it gives you any peace of mind, you and your husband couldn’t have saved him, no matter how quickly you got him out of the pool or how long you performed CPR.”
“Husband,” Gilly snickered under her breath.
“Ezra’s not my husband,” I clarified, but didn’t bother explaining.“If it wasn’t drowning, do you think it could’ve been foul play?”
The cuff tightened to an almost unbearable degree, making me wince.
