Page 90 of 56 Days
It’s a new voice, a woman’s, from her left side.
A familiar one.
An unwelcome one.
But Ciara doesn’t have the strength to protest. All she wants to do is get out. Once she’s done that, she’ll worry about gettingaway. She yields to her unseen helper and focuses on the floor as it changes beneath her feet.
Marble-effectlinoleum, scuffed with shoe marks.
The cold ridges of an escalator step.
A coarse floor mat with lettering she can’t read because it’s upside down.
She feels almost drunk, the kind when you know you’re not walking straight but you walk as if you are, too heavy on each foot, as if the sheer will of your own belief will be enough to steady you but actually just makes everything worse.
Stone steps. Gray cement. Different light—
They’re outside.
The fresh air is cool and welcoming and transformative. Ciara closes her eyes and gulps down lungfuls of it.
When she opens them again, she sees an almost deserted King Street. Herwould-beSamaritan has led her to one of the benches outside the Gaiety Theatre and is now gently pulling on her, encouraging her to sit down.
“Give yourself a minute,” she says. “Take a few deep breaths.”
Ciara is racing back to normal, to feeling perfectly fine, and chasing after it is a wave of hot, itchy embarrassment.
“Here.” A bottle of water appears in front of her face. “I’ve already drunk some but if you don’t mind, I don’t mind... Actually, here. I have someanti-bacwipes. Let me clean the neck of it for you.”
When the bottle reappears, Ciara takes it and gulps it down.
“Thank you,” she says then.
“Has that happened to you before? A panic attack?”
Only now does Ciara turn and look directly at the other woman and finds her suspicions confirmed.
It’s Laura who is sitting next to her.
What the hell is she doing here?
Was shefollowingher?
“Oh,” Ciara says, pretending to only have recognized her now. “Hello again.” And then, playing dumb, “Is that what that was? A panic attack?”
“Came on suddenly, hyperventilating, feeling sick?” Laura nods when Ciara does. “Sounds about right to me. What happened?”
“I don’t know, I just felt... claustrophobic.”
“Anywhere now that isn’t practically empty feels that way to me. I’m totally paranoid about catching this thing. How was your headache, in the end?”
It takes Ciara a second to remember her physical reaction to the fire alarm.
“Oh. Fine.”
“Look, ah...” Laura clears her throat. “There’s something I wanted to say to you. I was going to say it the other night but...” She shifts her weight. “I don’t really know how to put this, so I’m just going to come out with it, okay?”
Ciara braces herself.
