Chapter 3

My hair started falling out in clumps, and the pain in my bones was so bad I couldn't close my eyes.

Hilary thought I was asleep. Every night he sat out on the balcony gaming on a voice call with Samantha, and her laughter drifted in, sharp and grating.

That noon, Samantha used delivering company files as her excuse to come by.

The moment she stepped inside, she made a slow circle through the living room in her high heels.

"This place is so cozy. No wonder Mr. Delgado never wants to go back to the office. I didn't realize home was such a nice little haven for him."

I ignored her.

When she reached the coffee table, she let out an "Oh no," and knocked my pill box clean over.

The last few cancer pills rolled out across the floor.

She scrambled to pick them up, all flustered hands, and crushed several of them underfoot.

"I'm so sorry, so sorry, I didn't mean to..."

Hearing the commotion, Hilary strode over, frowning.

"What happened?"

Samantha ducked behind him, all startled little doe.

"I knocked over her medicine by accident... Mr. Delgado, did I cause a lot of trouble?"

Hilary glanced at the crushed powder on the floor. His voice didn't so much as ripple.

"Broken things mean good luck. Just buy more."

Back when he tore through every drugstore in the city for me, he probably never imagined that one day he'd stand in front of the same person and, about pills another woman had knocked over, say "just buy more."

Things had changed after all.

That evening.

The savage pain triggered acute hemorrhaging. I collapsed onto the cold floor, my mind slipping away.

Using the last of my strength to dial 911, I pressed Hilary's number with a trembling hand.

I wanted to hear him do what he'd always done, every time I curled up in pain, cupping my hand in his palm and saying, "Don't be scared, Pat. I'm here."

The phone rang a long time before it was answered.

Samantha's coy laugh came through. "Mr. Delgado's busy winning me a stuffed toy! If you need something, I can pass it along for you!"

Behind her, the cheerful music of an amusement park played on.

The phone slid from my palm, and the world went dark.

When I woke, I was in a hospital, Hilary sitting by the bed, his shirt still stained with cotton candy from the amusement park.

I opened my eyes in a haze, and out of some old reflex, the way I did every time I got sick, I reached to hold his hand.

My fingertips had barely touched his cuff before he shook me off.

"Why did you do that to Samantha? The video online, did you post it?"

Lying there in the hospital bed, all I felt was how absurd it was.

Absurd that I'd come so far from the girl I'd been at fifteen and still hadn't learned that the man in front of me had stopped being someone who would hold my hand a long time ago.

When I said nothing, Hilary shoved his phone screen right up to my face, his voice edged with anger.

"She's a young girl with no one to lean on in this city. I was already making arrangements to send her away. Why would you still do something like this?"

In the video, my mother had rushed down to the street outside Hilary's office. Facing Samantha, who'd just gotten off work, she raised her hand and slapped her in front of everyone, then cursed her with red-rimmed eyes.

"You shameless homewrecker, going after another woman's boyfriend!"

Samantha had been branded "the other woman," the thread stacking up to thousands of replies.

Hilary drew a deep breath, his voice shaking a little.

"Do you have any idea? Samantha nearly jumped off a building."

"I didn't post the video..." I explained, my voice barely a thread.

Before the words were even out, Hilary's phone rang again.

He glanced at the name on the screen, didn't spare me another look, and tossed out one line.

"You'd better sit here and think about what you've done. Stop stirring up trouble."

Then he turned and slammed the door on his way out.