Hope shivers as she looks at theEDENbracelet on her wrist. She wonders which of the favorite colors—pink, orange, purple—is supposed to be hers.
Her friends don’t know her as well as they think they do.
Hopewantspeople to know her. But she can’t ever seem to let them in. Or tell them the full truth. She’s gotten so very, very good at acting the parts. Who is she, for example, right now? This very second?
She doesn’t know. And if she doesn’t know, then—
No one does.
15
CARO
CARO CAN’T SLEEP.
Spencer, Tony, and Kevin are camping near them again tonight, but the two groups aren’t alone anymore. A fit older couple who look to be in their mid to late sixties have the campsite between Spencer’s group and Caro’s. The couple (Ed and Jean, from New Mexico) were friendly but have kept to themselves other than initial introductions and hellos. Which is perfect, Caro thinks. Something seems to have eased up with the arrival of Ed and Jean. They all exchanged pleasantries, but no one offered to hang out again tonight. Which is good, because Caro has enough on her mind. Too much.
Caro’s tried and tried, but she keeps going back to what happened at the hospital six weeks ago. Her brain won’t let up. Won’t leave it alone. It’s like when her dog Howie has a hot spot on his leg—an inflamed, infected place he can’t seem to stop worrying at, making it worse and worse.
Although how could this be worse?
It could be, she reminds herself.The baby could have died as well.She’s seen the baby in the neighborhood, worn by her dad in a front carrier on their walks. The father often has a protective hand on the baby’s head when Caro sees him. His shoulders are hunched. It seems to her there is a heaviness in his steps. He and the baby are so clearly alone. Once, she sawhim in their neighborhood grocery store and they made eye contact. He was holding a basket that held a single loaf of bread. Somehow Caro registered this before they turned away from each other. At the time, she’d felt grateful that they’d both had the same reaction. And that he wasn’t going to blame her somehow, that he didn’t yell at her or take what happened out on her. (In no way has anyone during the ensuing wrongful death suit insinuated that she, the anesthesiologist, did anything wrong in the delivery.) Still, she had asked for some time off.
“I understand,” her supervisor had said. She was—is—one of the only people who knows everything that Caro’s going through, that it’s not only the loss of the patient and caring for her dad that’s taking a toll. “Take a leave. We’ll always want you back, whenever you’re ready.”
Caro’s beginning to think she will never be ready. She can feel that baby’s head against her hand.
Careful not to wake the others, she climbs out of her sleeping bag and onto the sandbar. The sound of the water masks any noise she makes. Caro wants a look at the stars dotting the thin, midnight-blue ribbon of night sky above her. She casts a nervous look over at the men’s tents, but they’ve quieted for the night. She glances at her watch. It’s a few minutes past eleven p.m.
Another step and her foot hits water. The sandbar is not as large as she remembered. She switches on her flashlight and catches her breath in alarm.
The river.Something is happening.
The water is swelling around her ankles. It has begun tomove, the current intensifying by the moment. It was pristine and clear before but has now gone muddy. Caro watches for a moment, transfixed. The river is rising before her eyes, like when she looks up and sees clouds moving so quickly that she can track their progress across the sky.
It’s a flash flood.
“HELP!”Caro shouts, running back toward her friends, stumbling on the sandbar. She figures it’s the word most likely to wake people, to get them moving.“HELP!”
Sure enough, she sees Ash or Hope sitting up in her sleeping bag. On her way to them she keeps yelling, she shakes the tent that she thinks is Spencer’s, she cuts back over and shakes Ed and Jean’s tent on her way to Ash and Hope. “Flash flood’s coming,” she hollers.“Get out!”In the light from her flashlight she sees that someone at their site is now standing, shouting back at her. “What’s wrong?” Ash calls out.
“Flash flood!” Caro shrieks. “We have to get up high!”There is no time no time no time, she can feel it in her bones. She grabs the pack with the climbing gear.“Now!”
“Did you warn the others?” Ash already has her shoes on.
“I tried!”
They glance over. Ed has come out of the tent, and someone’s emerging from the men’s campsite, too.
“Shit,”Ash says. “Where’s Hope?”
“Oh no,” Caro says, because Ash is right, Hope’s not here, and then she sees her, illuminated in the flash of someone else’s headlamp, making her way over the already swollen river from the men’s camp to theirs.
What the hell?Caro wonders for a split second, but there is no time for this.
“Okay,” she says. “Ash. Turn your headlamp on. Hope, you too. Look at the river.” They do, all three of them swinging their lights to the water.
It’s swallowing the sandbar.
