Susan is also at this party – he saw her laughing at the center of a circle of men not long after he got here, and then their eyes slid off of each other, as has become their custom – but she is here. Edmund clings to the thought as his stomach lurches, and it holds him up better than either of the walls in this horrible crooked hallway, because Susan is here somewhere and if he can just find her, she can –

– what, Edmund, what exactly will she do? Will she give you a cup of water and a cool cloth for your forehead, tuck you in and tell you a story; or will she laugh loud and jarring and turn to explain that it’s just her baby brother, he’s always getting himself drunk because he doesn’t know how to pace himself; now, really, which of those scenarios is the most likely?

He groans and navigates his way to the carpet, asking himself why he even wanted Susan in the first place.