The Jewels of Sofia Tate by Doris Etienne Page B

seven-thirty. What was taking so long?
    Garnet rose from the chair and smoothed out her capri pants. “I’m going to ask again if there’s any more news. We’ve been waiting forever.”
    â€œMaybe they’re still running tests,” Garnet’s mother suggested.
    â€œWell, they’ve got to know something by now.”
    She walked up to the receptionist. A new shift had comeon and this time a dark-skinned young woman, Garnet guessed of East Indian descent, sat behind the window. “May I help you?” she asked with a British accent.
    â€œIs there any news on Elizabeth Tate?” Garnet asked.
    â€œOne moment, please. I’ll check.” The receptionist sipped her tea, then picked up the telephone and pressed some numbers. She waited for someone to take the call, made the inquiry, then replaced the receiver. Garnet moved a stray lock of hair away from her face. The receptionist looked up at her. “She has been admitted.”
    Garnet gave her a blank stare, not quite understanding. “Admitted. But is she okay?”
    The receptionist shrugged. “I’m sorry. I don’t know her condition.”
    Garnet let out a deep breath. What did it take to get answers around here? “Where is she?”
    â€œJust a moment.” The woman typed Elizabeth’s name on the keyboard and scanned the screen. “5D-North, Room 34.”
    â€œ5D-North, Room 34. Okay.” Garnet repeated it so she wouldn’t forget. “How do I get there?”
    â€œWhen you leave this room, turn left. Go down that hallway and turn left again. Then take the lift to the fifth floor. When you step off, you’ll find a map on the wall.”
    â€œThanks.”
    Garnet motioned to her mother and they walked the maze of hospital corridors. On the fifth floor they found the map and looked for the room number.
    â€œMay I help you?” an authoritative voice asked behind them. They turned to face a stern-looking nurse seated at the nurses’ station.
    â€œYes, we’d like to see Elizabeth Tate,” Garnet’s mother replied.
    The nurse stood up. “Are you family?” she enquired in a brusque tone.
    â€œNo, she has no family. We’re friends,” Garnet explained. She decided not to mention that her mother had never met the woman in her life.
    â€œI’m afraid a visit won’t be possible this evening. In the condition she’s in, she will need complete rest.”
    Garnet felt her body stiffen. “But what’s wrong with her? I’ve been waiting here for hours for someone to tell me, but no one ever does!”
    Garnet’s mother placed a hand on her shoulder as a door behind the nurse swung open and a doctor, who appeared to be in his early fifties, entered the station. He looked up from his clipboard and at their faces. “Is there a problem?” he asked.
    â€œYeah, there’s a problem,” Garnet said as she tried to control the quiver in her voice. “I’m trying to get some answers. Can
you
tell me what happened toElizabeth Tate?”
    â€œElizabeth Tate?” The doctor shook his head. “I’m sorry. She’s not a patient of mine.” He turned to the nurse. “Eleanor, is there any information you can give to this young lady?”
    Eleanor did not look pleased that the doctor had interfered. “Elizabeth Tate is recovering from a heart attack,” she replied. “Her chances for survival will increase only if she rests and if she makes it through the next forty-eight hours.”
    â€œDo you think she’ll die?” Garnet asked quietly. She closed her eyes and felt the breeze from the open car window rush past her as she laid her head back on the headrest.
    Her mother hesitated before answering. “She might, Garnet.”
    This was not the answer she wanted to hear; yet it was something she might have to face. She looked at her mother.
    â€œBut it’s not fair!