Wreckage

Wreckage Read Online Free PDF Page A

Book: Wreckage Read Online Free PDF
Author: Emily Bleeker
dog in the morning, those could have been our babies.” MY babies , I want to scream, but I hold the words in before they escape. “How many shots did you miss?”
    “Three,” she whispers.
    Three. I don’t understand. I’ve only been gone, what, twenty hours? Not two days, and definitely not three. I was home for two of those “forgotten” injections. I asked her how she felt after each shot, I babied her, made sure she still felt okay. Beth told me she visited her nurse friend Stacey every day, that she gave her the shots, that they didn’t even hurt. Why did she lie?
    I can’t breathe. I’ve never been claustrophobic but this is what it must feel like, like there isn’t enough oxygen in the room, like the walls are closing in. Scratching at the top button of my polo, I yank at it, fighting against the one idea I don’t want to believe—she did this on purpose. I press my forehead against the cool plastic plane window. The hand holding my phone shakes as I try to calm myself enough to talk.
    “Dave, honey, are you there? Please don’t be mad at me, please? Come on, baby, talk to me. Please.” Her voice grates on my ears.
    The plane jerks forward and yanks me back into the present. The doors quietly closed during my conversation. Theresa stands in the passageway between the cockpit and cabin. There’s that pitying look again. She points to the cell phone, signaling me to turn it off so we can get in the air.
    “I have to go, we’re taking off.” I’m surprised at the roughness in my voice.
    Beth sniffles loudly. “All right. Call me later, okay?”
    “Yeah, sure.”
    “I love you,” she whispers.
    I can’t bring myself to say it back.

CHAPTER 5
    LILLIAN
    Present
    “So tell me, Lillian, why did Margaret choose you to go with her?” Genevieve asked, pushing the story forward.
    “She said I deserved a break. We’d never been on a trip together just the two of us so she thought it might be fun.” Lillian flipped her hands in conclusion, pretending she’d thought going to Fiji was more important than taking Daniel to his first day of kindergarten.
    “The first week in Fiji went off without a hitch?” A well-sculpted eyebrow lifted, inviting detail. Next to the question in Lillian’s pamphlet was a note in parentheses that said: Be descriptive . She’d practiced with Jerry, telling him all the details of her trip with his mother. When she finished, his eyes filled with tears. He’d never heard the good stories.
    “Yeah, the island was beautiful and the people were amazingly kind and friendly. Carlton had someone from their PR department at our service at all times, making sure our vacation was incredible. That first week we went on a helicopter tour of the island, set sail on a sunset cruise, and took scuba diving lessons—or rather I took them while Margaret swam and sunned herself. But really most of the time we spent eating, lounging, and being lazy.” An actual smile played on Lillian’s face.
    “The second week was to be spent where?”
    Her smile disappeared and fear and remorse threatened to make her clipped, matter-of-fact voice tremble. “At a private resort in French Polynesia, Adiata something . . . um, Adiata Beach, I think. The company made the arrangements.”
    “Could you specify what the arrangements were for getting you and your mother-in-law to this island?” Genevieve leaned forward in her seat. She knew this was the important part, the part that would get viewers to tune in.
    Swallowing a lump, Lillian swore she could smell the combination of jet fuel and hot asphalt melting in the sun as she answered. “A private jet was chartered for our use.”
    Then the reporter asked the question she was dreading, the one that would start it all. All the lying.
    “What happened on that plane, Lillian?”
    Lillian knew what the reporter was hoping for when she took this interview—tears, wailing, and, if she was lucky, some spiritual enlightenment. That’s what they all
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