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The only person she’d really talked to was Dawson Her cheeks flushed He’d made the empty seat beside her in art his home and proceeded to drill her with questions about Nevada and her old school Gy there But there was a lot of s and that—

The slow, uneven footsteps cut off her internal swoon-fest Looking over her shoulder, she turned off the water Her slirayish and pasty, he was bald, and the flannel robe hung off his shoulders

He looked like death

And she felt like a tool for even thinking that Drying off her hands, she hoped her face didn’t convey what she was thinking But then he looked at her Dark shadows surrounded bloodshot, pale eyes

He knew Sick people always knew

Diverting her eyes, she went over to Phillip and pretended to be engrossed in whatever he was jabbering about Honestly, she was still surprised herand moved out here She’d never been close to her brother or her fa had been frowned upon But that was her mom Blood was thicker than water Her brother—her perfect, MD-carrying brother was sick with some kind of blood disease, and she’d rushed to his side

Herover, she wrapped an arm around his shoulders and led hi out of bed? You know you’re not supposed to be walking around after one of your treatments”

Uncle Will sat stiffly “It’s cheood It’s what I need to be doing instead of lying in a bed all day”

“I know” Her mom hovered over him “But you look so…tired”

His hairless brows shot down Wrong words Bethany shook her head “You look better,” she said, and poked Phillip’s belly, loving the sound of his giggle “The treat like it should I’ sick must suck You’d know all the statistics, the treatnoses inside and out No escaping the truth behind the disease or cushioning as to co around it Did that make her a terrible person? Uncle Will was family But death had never really touched her life Neither had sickness outside of a cold or flu

Uncle Will was staying with the better, he’d move back into his own house, but they’d still stay here The close call with death had herto make as left of her family close-knit

Mo him a cup of hot tea while he asked about school Bethany excused herself as soon as she could Giving Phillip one last tickle, she bolted from the kitchen and headed upstairs

The top floor had once been nothing but a loft Now it had three bedrooed open her bedroom door

It was a sad bedroom

No posters No real personal effects except the canvas and a se picturein the corner A desk was beside it, holding a laptop she rarely used Internet was spotty at best here, and she’d rather be spending her ti on the net A TV sat on the dresser Another thing she rarelyon TV shows or movies usually e She couldn’t tell anyone who the hottest new singer was or the na up the silver screen