Dream a Little Scream Read Online Free PDF

center of the shop.
    â€œLet’s give the EMTs some space to do their job,” she said quietly. “Keep everyone out of the hallway. I’m going back in there to see if I can help.”
    I felt queasy and took a seat at the signing table, looking out over the audience. I didn’t think the fans realized the seriousness of the situation and I heard a woman in the front row tell her friend that Sonia had “fainted.”
    I knew better, and I was sure I’d caught the words “anaphylactic shock” drifting down the hallway. The EMTs must have been in phone contact with the hospital, and they were giving clipped updates on Sonia’s condition. “Edema, impossible to intubate,” someone said curtly, and I sucked in a breath. If they were talking about intubating her, then Sonia really wasn’t breathing and Olivia’s analysis of the situation was correct.
    After what seemed like an eternity, the EMTs emerged from the hallway. The younger of the two was talking into a mic pinned to her uniform. “ETA ten minutes,” she said brusquely. Sonia was lying perfectly still on the gurney, with an oxygen mask strapped to her face. Her eyes were closed and her face was a mottled red. A soft groan went up from the audience as the paramedics hurried out to the ambulance. Olivia, along with the rest of Sonia’s entourage, looked shell-shocked.
    â€œHow bad is it?” I whispered to Sam, who appeared next to me.
    â€œVery bad,” she said, shaking her head. “No detectablepulse, the airway’s blocked, and epinephrine didn’t seem to help.”
    â€œBut the oxygen mask—?”
    â€œJust standard protocol.” She shook her head. “It’s probably not going to be enough to turn things around.” I remembered Sam had once told me that paramedics often slap an oxygen mask on a patient even if there isn’t any medical reason to do so. They want to give the appearance that the person is still alive and that they are making every effort to resuscitate them as they whisk them off to the hospital.
    â€œOh, that doesn’t sound good,” I said, surveying the crowd. This was going to be devastating news for her fans.
    â€œThey’ll have her in the ER in a few minutes, but I think she’s already gone. She probably could have been pronounced dead at the scene.”
    â€œThis is horrible,” Ali muttered.
    I was silent, watching Sam, who was scanning the room, her eyes narrowed, her body tense. Her arms dangled at her sides, but I noticed she was closing and unclosing her hands as her gaze swept the audience. She was on high alert today, but what—or who—was she looking for?
    Then I spotted Etta Mae Beasley in the front row, hugging her autographed copy of Sonia’s cookbook to her chest. There was an odd look on her face, an expression I couldn’t quite place. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she looked almost triumphant.
    Etta Mae’s lips were twitching in a ghost of a smile, and her expression was gloating. But that was impossible, wasn’t it? Why would she be happy that Sonia was seriously ill? Etta Mae had made it clear that she wasn’t a fan of Sonia’s, but did her feelings go beyond mere dislike? There was something chilling about her expression, and my stomach clenched.
    I tried to remember what had happened when Etta Mae had walked up to the table and received her autographed book from Sonia. Had the two women argued or exchanged words? I’d been distracted, pouring lemonade for the guests. I made a mental note to ask Olivia if anything unusual had occurred.
    Etta Mae must have felt me watching her, because we locked eyes for a brief moment, and then she quickly arranged her face into a bland expression. I turned and noticed Edward Giles staring fixedly as the paramedics wheeled Sonia away. His expression was thoughtful, without a touch of emotion or a hint of