“An accident?” Emma’s lungs deflated and she felt her heart clunk to a stop.
“Get to the hospital now!” Jane repeated, and hung up the phone. The next few moments were a blur. Emma almost dashed out the door, but realized she was still in her club clothes and slept in make-up. She shed off last night’s armor and threw on an old t-shirt and pair of sweatpants. She was a whirlwind of anxiety and panic as she tore through her room, and then out of the door.
“Please go faster,” she urged the cab driver. Feverish hands wiped the make-up off her face with an old make-up wipe at the bottom of her purse. She may look like a mess, but at least she didn’t look like last night’s mess.
The hospital seemed like it was light years away. No matter how fast she implored the driver to go, she never seem
