Page 77 of No One Was Supposed to Die at This Wedding

“We did warn your party.”

“Okay.”

“And you signed a waiver.”

“I did?”

“He did.” Mr. Prentice points to Fred, now sitting on his own but with his eyes only half open.

“Hewhat?” Tyler says.

“Signed a waiver of liability. For being here during the storm. It was the only way we’d agree to proceed with the event. I believe it was on behalf of the film’s production company? When in Rome, Inc.?”

Tyler’s anger is simmering close to the surface. “He doesn’t have the authority to do that.”

“That will be a question for another day, presumably.”

I reach around the back of Fred’s head gently. I’m not an EMT, but I did have lifeguard training as a teenager. Which qualifies me for almost nothing, but it’s better thannothing, isn’t it?

I know enough to feel a big lump back there, which I touch gingerly as he winces.

“There’s evidence of blunt force trauma,” I say.

“You sound so official,” Allison says.

I lean in front of Fred and hold up my hand. “How many fingers?”

“Two.”

“That’s right. And now?”

“Four.”

“Good. I don’t think he has a concussion.”

“Probably shouldn’t takeyourword for that, though,” Connor says. He’s standing behind David and Allison, looking unfazed.

It takes a lot to rumple Connor—I’ll give him that.

Is it possible Tyler asked him to take Fred out?

No, no. Connor’s shady AF, but he’s not amurderer.

“You have a better idea?” I ask.

“There must besomeonewith medical training on this island,” Allison says. “Or surely we can bring someone over on a boat?”

“All boats have been canceled because of the—”

“Storm, we get it!”

It feels like a funny moment, except for the fact that Fred really might need a doctor.

And what about the rest of us?

What if one ofusneeds a doctor?

Coming here was irresponsible.

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