Which reminds her. Dentist. She needs to cancel her appointment for next week. With her current work schedule, her six-month check-up will just have to wait. She looks at her watch. It’s after 7 p.m. Too late to call so an email will have to do.
She logs into her Inbox and frowns when she sees the message waiting for her. It’s from someone she doesn’t recognize. A person named Yasmin Jefferson. But that’s not what bothers her. It’s the headline that causes her heart to skip a beat. Three words in bold font. Toni is Missing.
3
Julia stares at the message, breathing. Toni is missing in Istanbul. From Yasmin. Please call me. Followed by a phone number. Julia puts the phone on the coffee table, shoves it away. Two years since they’ve last spoken. Now this. Another Toni drama. For Pete’s sake.
She should email this Yasmin person back and tell her not to be sucked in, that Toni could do that to you, suck you in and before you knew it, you were drowning in the quicksand that was Toni’s life.
Bishop yowls and leaps onto the coffee table. He wants to play.
“Not now, Bish.”
Julia shoos him off and tries to think back to the last time she’s heard from Toni. Two months ago? Three? Toni sends Julia emails from time to time, most of which Julia avoids opening, all of which she has never replied to. The emails detail “TONI’S BIG ADVENTURES.” Look at me, I’m on the top of Mount Kilimanjaro, on a train in Siberia, swimming with the dolphins in the South Island of New Zealand. Toni still trying. Toni still wanting to connect. Toni and her crazy screwed up life.
But it is too late for that. Julia has given her chances, dozens of them, and Toni blew each one. Toni is old enough to look after herself. Toni is wherever she wants to be, pulling the wool over people’s eyes, just like always. Well, as far as Julia is concerned, her immature, irresponsible, and self-absorbed sister can stay missing.
Julia simply does not want to know anymore.
She picks up her phone, finds the Toni is Missing email, and pushes delete.
*
Julia enters the elevator and hits the button to the fourteenth-floor recovery ward. She checks her phone for the third time that morning. No more emails from Yasmin Jefferson. She frowns, unsure whether she’s glad or not.
She glimpses herself in the stainless-steel doors. Her ponytail has come loose. There are dark circles under her eyes. Last night had been a restless one and it definitely shows. She’d spent most of it seesawing between annoyance and worry. What if she’d been too hasty deleting the email? What if this time there was a genuine problem? But there have been false alarms before, haven’t there? Not to mention the countless chances she’s given Toni over the years, and all the disappointment Julia has suffered as a consequence. In the end the alarm had gone off and Julia had lain there staring at the ceiling, having achieved absolutely nothing at all except for a splitting headache.
The elevator doors ping and Julia exits, redoing her ponytail as she walks. No, she tells herself, I’ve done the right thing. I have to be strong. I am getting my life in order. Things are going well. I do not want to jeopardize that again.
Julia pushes through the swing doors into the cardiothoracic wing. The cleaner’s just been in, leaving behind damp half circles on the linoleum and the strong scent of Lysol. She passes the nurses’ station, a glassed off area midway down the corridor, and sees fresh-faced nurses mingling with tired ones as they conduct shift changeover. Julia doesn’t stop to chat, carrying on until she locates the correct room, third from the end.
A perky Mrs. Keller is sitting up in bed spooning cornflakes and what looks like stewed plums into her mouth. The Today Show plays silently on a tiny television bracketed in the corner opposite the bed.
Mrs. Keller’s face lights up when she sees Julia. “Hiya, sweetheart!”
“Good morning, Mrs. Keller. You’re looking well.”
The older lady beams. “I feel like a million bucks. All thanks to you.”
Someone had brought in a multicolored afghan and spread it across Mrs. Keller’s bed, giving the room a homey feel.
“Has everything been okay, Mrs. Keller? Any pain in the lung? Is the pain relief enough?”
The older lady touches the oxygen cannula inserted into her nostrils. “Can I take this off? It’s hurting my nose.”
Julia checks the chart. Mrs. Keller’s oxygen levels were last taken at 4:07 a.m. The reading was for 75 mm Hg. Still a little on the low side.
“I’ll make a note for the supplement oxygen to be removed as soon as you reach 90 mm Hg. All going well, you’ll be out of here in a few days. You’ll just need to clear the lung function test. Have you got someone to look after you when you get home?” Julia’s phone rings. A number she doesn’t recognize. “Excuse me, Mrs. Keller, I’d better take this.”
“You go ahead, sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere.”
Julia steps into the corridor and answers. “Dr. Norris speaking.”
“Julia-Anne?”
Julia pauses. No one ever calls her that.
“Are you there, Julia-Anne?”
“Who’s calling please?”
“I’ve been trying to get hold of you. My name is Yasmin Jefferson. I sent emails. About Toni. You are her sister, aren’t you? I’ve got the right person, haven’t I?”
Julia swallows. “Yes, I’m Toni’s sister.”
“I’m calling from Istanbul. Toni was meant to meet a group of us here at the hostel, but she never showed
