Chapter 2

At noon, Lottie rushed home as usual to cook for me.

It was a habit she'd kept for years. No matter how busy she got, she always came home to eat with me.

Today she'd made beef and tomato stew, my old favorite.

I lifted a bite to my mouth and tasted nothing.

After the meal she counted two small white tablets out of the pillbox and pressed them into my palm.

"Russ, time for your medicine."

I took them and swallowed them down with warm water.

Something rose up in my throat, sweet and metallic. I turned my head and coughed twice, and bright red spilled out between my fingers.

Just then the phone on the table buzzed.

A voice message came in from Steve, playing out loud.

"Ms. Barnes, I can't get this quarter's data report to balance no matter what I try..."

Lottie glanced at me on reflex, brows drawn tight, restless.

"Get some rest. I need to go handle something at the office."

She didn't even wait for me to answer. She grabbed her coat and slammed the door on her way out.

I curled up alone on the cold couch and sat there without moving until the sky went dark.

Today was my follow-up appointment.

Lottie had forgotten it long ago.

I took a cab to the hospital by myself. The doctor looked at the scans and let out a heavy sigh.

"Mr. Simmons, the cancer cells have spread everywhere. The time you have left... you need to prepare yourself."

As I walked out through the hospital doors, my social media feed refreshed.

It was a set of photos from Steve.

The caption read: 【Move went smoothly! Thanks to a certain someone for taking me out for a big dinner to celebrate~】

In the photo, Lottie was carefully picking the bones out of a fish, laying the meat into the bowl of the boy across from her, who was beaming.

Just then, my father called.

"Russ, how did the checkup go today?"

"It went fine."

"Didn't Lottie say she was going to take you around the world? Your dad still remembers her saying she'd take you to Iceland to see the northern lights, to Switzerland to ski. She said you'd set off once your birthday came. Have you two booked the flights and the hotels yet?"

Listening to the worry in my father's voice on the other end, I finally couldn't hold it together. I choked up and got the words out.

"Lottie... she's fallen for someone else..."

I hung up, and Riverton's December snow came down over my head.

Looking at all that white, I remembered how, every time we used to go out, Lottie would bundle me up piece by piece, scarf and gloves and hat, saying, "You've always hated the cold. If you catch a chill you'll be in too much pain to sleep all night, and I can't stand that."

A snowflake landed on my lashes. I blinked once, and it melted and ran down.

The truth was, ever since I found out Steve existed, a ridiculous thought had taken hold of me.

Why did I have to find out at all?

If I hadn't, then until the day I died, Lottie would have stayed the fifteen-year-old girl who held my hand.

Would have stayed the girl who, even after I slapped her, still smiled and said "It's okay."

Would have stayed the one who kept watch at my bedside for three days and three nights, holding my hand, saying she was "afraid of losing me."

I could have carried that illusion and died in peace.

But I found out anyway.

Lottie went from that warm, fierce girl into the hateful traitor she is now.