Page 28 of One Little Mistake
I shut the door firmly behind them.
I’m so done with all of this.
I start toward the bedroom but stop in front of the nursery door—the one that’s been haunting me for days. First thing tomorrow, I’m calling the designer who remodeled my place last year. He’s going to turn that room back into my office.
I switch off all the lights, and the second my head hits the pillow, I’m out.
***
I sleep until noon. It’s gray and rainy outside. I force myself out of bed and into motion—because the sooner I deal with all of this, the sooner I can shut up that nagging voice in my head.
I brew a strong coffee and walk to the panoramic window. The city is completely swallowed by the thick curtain of rain, and I clench Erin’s phone tightly in my hand. Turns out her mom was saved in the contacts by name, which is why I couldn’t find the number earlier. I take a deep breath, clear my throat, and hit call.
The ringtone echoes in my ears while I mentally rehearse what I’m going to say to Ellie. I’m tense. Pacing. Every muscle in my body tightens as I wait for a stranger’s voice to answer on the other end.
One ring.
Two.
Three.
Silence.
Voicemail.
I hang up and try again. I’m not stopping until someone picks up.
Finally, maybe on the fifth try, I hear some static… and then a rough male voice.
“Hello?”
“Uh—sorry, is this Ellie’s number? Did I dial right?”
There’s a pause, like he’s weighing something.
“Where’s Erin? Who is this?” He speaks with a noticeable accent, and I instantly assume he’s the man Ellie stayed overseas for.
“I’m Max. And who are you? I’m calling for Erin’s mother.”
Another pause. A loud exhale from the other side of the line.
“Ellie had a stroke. She’s in the hospital. Don’t tell Erin—she shouldn’t know right now. She’s doing better, but the doctors want to keep her under observation a while.”
“Erin had the baby,” I say quietly, matching his tone. “She’s in the ICU. I thought her mom might be able to come get the kid.”
More silence. I shut my eyes. Could this whole situation possibly get any worse?
“Then…” I hesitate, not sure what else to say, “just let me know if Ellie improves. I’ll keep this phone on me. Call anytime. I’ll keep you updated on Erin too.”
“Alright. Thanks.”
“Yeah.” I hang up first and sink to the floor.
Then I call Erin’s doctor, hoping for some kind of miracle.
But no miracle comes.
The entire day I can’t sit still. No appetite. Not even my favorite video game can take the edge off. Eventually, I yank the cord out of the wall, slam the laptop shut, and storm out of the apartment. I head straight for the one next door.
