TWO HOURS. I looked down at my watch. The flight plan called for two hours and eight minutes from wheels up to wheels down. It had only been thirty-five minutes and already Eva was leaning over Adelaide and fidgeting with her IV. Though the physician in her refused to tell me her thoughts, her expression and concentration did little to hide her concerns.

A blood pressure cuff was secured around Adelaide’s arm and Eva had her stethoscope in her ears, but I wondered how the doctor could possibly hear anything over the roar of the engines.

I contemplated the bar the copilot had offered. A few fingers of whiskey would ease the sharp edge of my anxiety. My pulse raced as the doctor took Adelaide’s.

Instead of a drink, I leaned toward Adelaide and rested my hand on the blanket covering her legs. It was the connection that I sought, the one I’d missed. Just touching her calmed my nerves. My thoughts volleyed between elation that we’d rescued her and terror at her condition. At first I’d attributed her movement to the plane, but the longer my hand rested, the more apparent the trembling became.

“She’s shaking,” I said when Eva removed the earpieces.

One by one, Eva lifted Adelaide’s eyelids and shone a light into her eyes. I took a deep breath remembering her eyes, bright and blue like the New York sky. Though it had been a lifetime ago, I recalled the way they stared into mine as we’d made love and the way they’d sparkled as we talked and laughed.

“What are you seeing?” I finally asked.

“Her pupils are dilated.”

“Because you’re shining a light on them. That’s normal.”

Eva’s bottom lip disappeared as she turned my way. I had a knack for reading people, sensing fear and resolution. Without a word I knew when a man was resolved to his future—or the lack thereof. Carmine once called it a gift. In this moment, I considered it more of a curse. There was more that Eva wasn’t saying.

“Talk to me, damn it!” My demand came out louder than I intended.

“Ore-Mr. Ferrari, I’m afraid your wife may be going into shock. Pupils contract to light not dilate. Her pupils have enlarged since my initial exam. The cause could be a combination of the medication and her withdrawals.”

“None of that’s changed since we took off.”

“I’m concerned that the move has been difficult for her.”

I sprang the latch on the seatbelt and stood. “No, that’s not it. Whatever’s happening, make it stop.”

Though I’d felt Adelaide’s trembling, when I looked down into her face, I looked past her ghostly complexion. She was the woman I loved. It was then I noticed the perspiration dotting her forehead and upper lip. I reached for the blanket and pulled it back.

“Why the hell is she covered if she’s too hot?”

Dr. Rossi stood, meeting me face-to-face, and reached for the blanket. “She’s not hot. Feel her skin: she’s cold. Too cold.”

Before I could respond, we both were silenced. The cabin filled with Adelaide’s breathing as it sputtered and gagged as if she were gasping for breath.

Eva fell to her knees and placed the stethoscope over Adelaide’s chest.

Spinning in place, I pulled at my hair, closed my eyes, and silently prayed, “I know I’m not a good man. I can’t change that. I’ve made deals with the devil, but that’s me. Please don’t take it out on her. She deserves so much more than she’s had.”

Eva reached for the bag she’d brought onboard. “Her pulse is erratic—quivering. I’m getting more saline to help flush her system. Search the cabinets for an AED, just in case.”

My eyes wildly roamed the interior of the cabin. “AED? The defibrillator thing?”

“Yes. Now. It’s better to be safe.”

I opened cabinet after cabinet, cursing myself for not being better prepared. I should have called one of those medical transports. Fuck, I’d spend the rest of my life in prison as long as Adelaide was all right.

The planes we contracted were top of the line: Cessnas, Beechcraft Bonanzas, and even Learjets for transatlantic flight. The service was reliable and always at the ready. The interiors of the different models varied with one common denominator—luxurious. At this second, I didn’t give a damn about luxury. We could be flying in a tin can. I just wanted to find the AED. There had to be one, didn’t there?

As I searched, I found that many of the cabinets were empty—for storage, I presumed. Near the wet bar, most of the cupboards were filled with trays containing packets of snacks, sweet or salty. They were both there. The way each one was sealed, they probably had enough preservatives to last another ten years. I continued to open each little door.

I finally found what I’d been searching for in a shiny cabinet with a gold handle under the bar. AED was printed on the exterior of a red nylon bag. “Here it is.”

As I turned back around, I gasped. Adelaide’s nightgown was opened and her breasts were exposed. Eva again placed the stethoscope against her chest. I held my breath as I watched, uncertain of what I was seeing. Was her chest moving?

Paralyzed, I remained motionless, praying that I would see movement. My feet forgot how to step as the plane glided through the night sky. I was transfixed by the vision of my own life coming to an end. Because if the woman on the couch died, I would too.

As the possibility of losing Adelaide forever began to seep into my consciousness, my own blood pressure skyrocketed. My heart pumped forcefully, ready to do the job for both of us. Regret and anger swirled within me, becoming the accelerants racing through my system.

There were too many years that we’d missed and too many apologies to ever voice. But that wasn’t what gave my feet permission to move. It was the rage growing within me. It wasn’t directed at the woman fighting for her life or even at myself. While the scene before me tinged with red, I made myself a vow. I would not rot in prison for kidnapping one of the only women I’d ever loved. Hell no. I’d walk into prison with my head held high for the uncontested murder of Alton Fitzgerald.

“Oren!”

Had Eva been speaking?

I snapped back to reality.

“Bring it here and look for an oxygen tank.”

“Is she…? Can you…?”

She extended her hand. “Give me the AED. I can’t detect a pulse.” When I didn’t move, she repeated herself louder and with even more authority. She was the doctor and taking charge.

Her tone was a technique I’d used myself, but not one I could recall having been used on me. I’d always been the one in control. Not now.

“Concentrate. Bring me the AED and look for the oxygen.”

“But you said the FAA—”

I slowly moved forward, handing Eva the bag.

“You were right. Every plane has emergency oxygen. On a plane this size…” She continued speaking as she hurriedly pulled a box with wires from the red zippered bag. “…it could be as simple as a small tank and mask. Keep looking. Ask the pilots if you have to.”

I can’t detect a pulse.

The words repeated on a loop, growing louder in my mind despite my attempt to silence them.

With shaking hands, I reached for the cabin’s ceiling. It was a futile attempt to steady myself and halt the growing nausea. Bile and acid bubbled from the depths of my stomach as Eva untangled the contents of the nylon bag. At the end of wires connected to the box she unsheathed two large pads, stickers really, and placed one on Adelaide’s side and the other above her breast. It was all happening merely a few feet away, but somehow I’d developed tunnel vision. With each second the tunnel grew longer, taking Adelaide and Dr. Rossi farther and farther away.

The box began to speak. “Assessing patient. Stand clear.”

Eva sat back on her heels allowing the AED to do its job.

“Shock needed.”

I held my breath.

As a high-pitched whine filled the cabin, the doctor’s eyes met mine. “Find the oxygen.”

I nodded, tearing my gaze away from the scene. The box’s voice joined the loop reminding me that Adelaide’s pulse had stopped. Together they were a sickening chorus, mocking my vain attempts at good.

Numbers filled the air as the pitch grew even higher. “Shocking patient.”

It was an audible zap. The muscles in my throat clinched, keeping the bile at bay as Adelaide’s body jumped. I hadn’t seen it, but I’d heard it, her weight falling back to the leather seat. It was worse than any TV show or movie as we waited for the box to reassess.

My teeth ached as I clenched my jaw, afraid to turn back around, afraid to know what Eva and the box were doing. Fuck, I’d been around death more times than I could count. But this was different, even different than with Angelina.

My ex-wife had fought a good fight. I hadn’t been with her as she took her last breath. The last time I’d seen her, we’d talked. I spoke more than she, but in her eyes I saw her answers and her truths. She’d made peace with her life and her death. Though losing her too young left a hole that can never be filled, knowing that she was ready for what awaited her gave me comfort.

Adelaide wasn’t ready. I’d seen her on the footage from Magnolia Woods. The last time she’d truly been conscious, she’d pleaded with Jane to speak with Alexandria. Adelaide Montague had more life to live. This wasn’t right.

“Help me move her to the floor.”

“The oxygen…”

“I need her on a hard surface to do CPR.”

“CPR?” I asked as I cradled Adelaide’s slack body and moved her to the floor.

“Yes, the shock didn’t work.”

I took a step back as Dr. Rossi fell to her knees. With her hands locked she leaned over Adelaide and pushed on her chest, counting aloud. I contemplated helping, but didn’t know what to do. I felt completely helpless as the box began to speak again.

“Stop CPR. Analyzing.”

My knees weakened and chin dropped to my chest with the sickening realization that both of Alexandria’s parents would be dead because of me. The love of my son’s life would hate me forever. Why shouldn’t she? It wouldn’t only be her: Lennox would hate me, too. Moisture that refused to stay contained trickled down my cheeks as I imagined my confession.

Each of their deaths had been different, yet I was the common link. Russell had been business—duty—and Adelaide’s was unintentional. Yet if the move from Magnolia Woods was the trigger, it was my doing.

Could I ever make our children believe that if I’d known, I never would have moved Adelaide? I never would have forced this trip.

The cabin again filled with the high pitch.

This time I watched as her petite body jumped, landing upon the hard floor.

The doctor and I both sat motionless, waiting for the box to talk.

“Shock ineffective. Begin CPR.”

Eva turned my way. “Come here. You do the chest compressions while I administer epinephrine.”

I didn’t know what the medicine she mentioned would do, nor did I know what I was doing. Nevertheless, I did as she instructed. Kneeling where Eva had been, I held my hands together and placed them over Adelaide’s sternum. Before I compressed, I turned to the doctor. “I don’t want to hurt her.”

Her expression was solemn. “She can’t feel it.” Eva reached for my shoulder. “Fast and hard. She needs you to do this.”

I did as I’d seen, using my own weight to depress her breastbone. I understood the science, the necessity to compress the heart muscle enough to express the blood and give her body the oxygen it needed. But as my body pushed, noises like cracking cartilage and breaking bone filled my ears. With each snap and crack, the bile I’d tried to hold back rushed upward.

Swallowing quickly and repeatedly, I pressed with all my might, bouncing up and down as Eva filled a syringe.

My count had only gotten to the number ten when Eva injected the contents of the syringe into the port on Adelaide’s IV and the box spoke again.

“Stop CPR. Analyzing.”

In the few seconds that followed I recalled my vow. Alexandria could hate me forever, because it wouldn’t only be her father and mother whose deaths would be on my hands. It would be her stepfather’s too. Singlehandedly, I’d be responsible for the loss of her entire family.

We both scooted back as the high-pitched noise rose higher and longer, echoing throughout the cabin. Again Adelaide’s body flopped. I poised myself to continue the CPR. The procedure was more taxing than I’d imagined, but I didn’t give a damn. I’d keep doing it until we landed if I needed to.

“Shock successful. Monitor respirations.”

My eyes opened wider as I looked to Dr. Rossi. The box had spoken a different message.

“What does that mean?”

She lowered the stethoscope to Adelaide’s chest as her facade shattered and she let out a long sigh. “She has a heartbeat.” The doctor inclined her head lower, her cheek near Adelaide’s face.

Without missing a beat, Eva plugged Adelaide’s nose, tilted her chin upward, and blew into her mouth. Two breaths and she’d stop. With each breath Adelaide’s chest rose and fell.

“Go get the oxygen.”

“I-I didn’t find it.”

“Look!” she shouted just before her lips again covered Adelaide’s.

Near the front of the cabin was a slender closet. If I’d been thinking in my right mind, I’d have assessed that it would be the obvious location for oxygen. After all, the tank was tall and slender, a green cylinder. Attached and wound together in a plastic bag was a clear mask with a big ball and plastic tubing. The cylinder was on a stand with wheels and a handle, similar to a one-handled wheelbarrow.

As quickly as I could, I moved all of it to Dr. Rossi. She was no longer breathing into Adelaide. Instead she concentrated on listening with the stethoscope. I waited until she removed the earpieces.

She reached for the plastic bag and freed the mask. As she placed it over Adelaide’s mouth and nose, she said. “She’s breathing on her own, but the oxygen will help. We should get her back on the couch. It’s safer in the air. We can seatbelt her in. Her heartbeat is steady.”

I nodded. “Do you want me to lift her?”

“Yes. Let’s get her secured.”

For minutes upon minutes the doctor adjusted the IV fluid, only to listen and readjust. It wasn’t until she was satisfied that we both sat back in our seats and I looked her in the eye.

“There aren’t words. I wouldn’t have known what to do.”

Her cheek rose in an uneven smile. “I became a doctor because saving lives has never been the focus of our family.” She shrugged. “I thought maybe it would be good if the next generation changed that.”

I remembered hearing how Eva’s father had thought it unnecessary for his daughter to attend medical school. That hadn’t lessened his pride in her success.

“You’ve made this member of the family proud and thankful.”

She looked at her watch. “We should be landing in another hour. Tell me you have an ambulance scheduled to meet us at the airport.”

“I do.”

“I’d like to stay with her for the next twenty-four hours, at least. If that’s all right with you, Mr. Ferrari?” Her smile lifted both of her cheeks with the use of my fake name.

“My wife and I would appreciate that.”