Summer asked, as she and Mia helped her to the chaise lounge. “I’m fine, dear,” Dorothy said, with a slight cough. “Really. Just a touch of an allergy, I think.” Summer turned to Mia, who was kneeling beside her, looking genuinely worried. “We need a doctor.” “There are tons of them here at the party,” Mia answered. “I’ll be right back.” She stuck her head back through the powder room door. “This is your grandma, right?” “Yes,” Summer said. “Sort of. I call her Dorothy sometimes.” Dorothy looked up at her with red-rimmed, half-shut eyes. “It must have been the citrus tarts,” she said. “Did they have mango in them?” Summer tried to remember all the different foods and drinks she’d served earlier. Eduardo had drilled them all on the ingredients beforehand, of course, but it was kind of hopeless. The salsa had mango, but the other stuff?
