Hena’s pulse spiked. Ammi was right. It wasn’t just Lulu’s throat—her arms and face were breaking out into angry red splotches.
“I can’t—I can’t breathe.” Lulu staggered backward, knocking a lamp from the side table. The bulb burst into a spray of glass. She clutched at her throat. Panicking. Her lips were already turning blue.
“The EpiPen!” Hena shouted. “Where is it?”
“In her purse!” Ammi cried out.
Before Hena could move, Gita raced to Lulu’s bag and frantically rifled through. Loose change, lipstick, and a compact mirror clattered to the floor. At last, she yanked out the plastic tube. Uncapping it, she raced to Lulu’s side and thrust the needle into her leg.
It would work. Hena knew it would. But terror shot through her all the same.
Seconds later, Lulu let out a ragged gasp. Hena grabbed her as she sank hard to the floor.
“You’re going to be fine,” Hena said, soothing her sister, trying to keep her voice from wavering. “Just give it time. You’ll be all better before you know it.”
Cradling Lulu in her arms, the minutes ticked by. Hena’s thoughts flashed to her sister’s eleventh birthday, when the server had failed to note her nut allergy. When Lulu bit into the cake, her lips swelled instantly. Hena remembered the panic. Her mother frantically digging through her purse as a crowd grew around their table. Just as before, seeing her sister struggle for air made Hena’s own lungs compress with fear.
But Lulu was improving. Hena watched as Lulu’s eyes slowly fluttered open and met Hena’s.
“Well, that was…that was something,” she finally said.
“You’re okay,” Hena said, her stomach unclenching, her own voice growing steadier. “You’re past the worst of it.”
“Thanks, everyone,” Lulu said weakly.
She was better now. Still, the thought of how dangerous the situation was…how close she had been to death…Hena shivered.
“We should get you to the ER,” she said.
“There’s no need.” Lulu struggled to sit up. She winced as she grazed a hand where Gita had stabbed her. “I’m better now.”
“Lulu—”
“If I need the second pen, yes. Fingers crossed this was it.”
“How did this happen?” Hena asked. “You didn’t touch anything at the breakfast bar, did you?”
“I avoided everything. I’ve been washing my hands constantly,” she said, as Gita swept up the broken glass. “I must have brushed against something allergenic pretty recently—this all sparked after I touched my face.”
“Well, you’re all right now,” Gita said. “That’s what matters.”
Hena went to the kitchen and grabbed a glass of water for Lulu. She watched as Lulu took a few sips, the color returning to her face.
“Why don’t you lie down?” Hena said. “What happened is no joke.”
“I’m good. Really,” she said. “But I do need a favor.”
“Anything,” said Hena.
“The airboat ride is in thirty minutes. I forgot to make copies of the waiver. The paper’s on my desk. Can you take it down to Lucinda?”
Hena blinked. Minutes earlier Lulu was battling anaphylactic shock. Her arms were still covered in angry red welts. Now she was discussing paperwork?
“Lulu…I think you can take a break on wedding logistics for just a second,” Hena said.
Her sister’s smile was faint but defiant. “I am. It’s why I’m askingyouto take care of this.”
“Sure. But I’m going to sit this ride out. I’d rather keep an eye on you.”