“Didn’t want to invite who?”
The stall door behind us swings lazily on its hinge like a ghost just finished and exited from it. Raven flinches at the sound and goes quiet, her fingers white-knuckled on the countertop. For a moment I think she’s going to be sick again. But she steadies herself with a long breath, the kind that requires a conscious decision.
“Whit was getting better, but she was still sick. So, she drew up the will the moment we conceived. She told me she left her baby to the person she loved most in the world,” Raven says carefully. “Her best friend. The person she trusted more than anyone. But earlier this week, Eleanor told me she would be taking custody. I’m not in the will, so I can’t see it or do anything about it. But I swear on my life Celeste is in there.I know it.”
The puzzle pieces are aligning in my head faster than I want them to. The champagne in my stomach turns.
“Eleanor wants this baby,” Raven continues. “She’s already assembled her lawyers. She’s claiming Whitney wasn’t in her right mind when the will was drawn up, which isbullshit—Whitney was sharper than anyone I’ve ever met, even at the end. But Eleanor’s got so much money and connections and…” Shestops again, squeezing her eyes shut. “She wasn’t going to tell Celeste about the baby. She wasn’t even going to invite her to the funeral.”
I feel like I’m watching the final scene of a horror movie. The part when you realize the call was coming from inside the house the entire time.
“I don’t think that’s true, Raven. Celeste told me that the Traces’ lawyers sent the information to Celeste’s office. That couldn’t have happened without Eleanor knowing.”
“Technically…” Oh, I don’t like that guilty tone one bit. She meets my eyes in the mirror. Hers are red-rimmed and defiant and scared.
“I might’ve posed as a legal messenger. I googled some legal documents online and wrote up a memo that looked official enough to pass. I included the funeral invitation. I needed Celeste to come because Whitney wantedherto have this baby, not Eleanor, and if Celeste didn’t even know—” Her voice cracks. “I never met Celeste until I gave her that envelope. But the way Whit talked about her…I just thought Celeste should know. It’s my job to make sure this baby is delivered safe and sound to therightfulmother. I didn’t have Celeste’s personal number and I didn’t realize she was a sort of celebrity. All I had was her company’s address. So I faked a delivery from an estate attorney and prayed she’d show up.”
Footsteps approach, and I brace for the interruption. I’m gripping the countertop now too, standing next to Raven like two people bracing for turbulence. But whoever is passing by is unmistakable in high heels as they head down the hall, likely to the women’s restroom that Raven never made it to.
“Does Celeste have any idea?” I ask, even though I know the answer. “About the baby?”
She shakes her head. Slowly. “I didn’t want to tell her something and it not be true. Like I said, I haven’t seen the will. I just needed to get herhere.”
“So you lured Celeste to a funeral with forged legal documents, and now she’s standing in the next room with no idea she’s about to possibly inherit the child of her deceased best friend whom she had no idea had a baby on the way.”
Stated aloud, it sounds absolutely mental. Raven, to her credit, winces.
“When you say it like that?—”
“There’s not a great waytosay it, Raven.”
“I know.” Her eyes are filling again. “I know. But you’ve been with her. You drove here with her. Is she…” She searches my face for something she can use. “If she is named as guardian of little blob, is she the kind of person who would?—”
“She spent the last two and a half hours crying over Whitney,” I say quietly. “She wrote a speech. She flew through New York City in a car she can barely drive because she couldn’t stand to be alone with her grief. She’s terrified that Whitney wouldn’t even want her here.” I pause. “Yeah. She’s the kind of person.”
Raven’s whole body sags with relief. She fumbles open her beaded clutch and pulls out a small, battered tub of VapoRub. She unscrews the cap, holds it under her nose, and takes a deep, shuddering inhale.
I watch her, baffled. “Is that?—”
“VapoRub. Kills the nausea. Sort of. I just started trying it after reading an article.” She holds it out. “Want some? You look like you might be sick too.”
“I’m processing.”
“Process faster, because now I need to pee.”
“I believe your restroom is down the hall.”
She rolls her eyes. “I’m already here alone.”
I tap my head, then shoulders, ending with my chest. “Just making sure I’m physically here and therefore you can see me, right?”
Raven pouts. “My feet hurt and the women’s bathroom is probably ten years away.”
I push off the counter. “Okay, fine. I need to go find Celeste anyway. Are you sure you’re going to be okay on your own?”
She nods emphatically. “I’m already feeling better. We have about twenty minutes until the funeral starts. Plenty of time for a couple more preemptive pukes to get me through the service.”
“Great. Also, gross. Hang in there. I’m sure we’ll be seeing you again when this Pandora’s box you’ve handed out is opened up and all our faces melt off.”
