“Lindsey,” I whisper.

“Yeah, that was it,” he says. “Anyhow, she’s in the family room down the hall. I told her I’d come get you.”

“Thanks,” I say, my eyes zeroing in on Andrew’s, willing them to open. “If anything changes…” I start to say as I stand. Owen raises a hand, acknowledging me.

I hate leaving his room. I’m so afraid I’ll miss something. So afraid I’m what’s helping him breathe—as self-centered as that sounds. The door closes lightly behind me, and I take small, sliding steps down the hall, my hand dragging along the cold metal of the railings until I get to the windows for the family room. Andrew’s mom and stepdad took off for a nearby hotel to grab a room so they could shower and stay close for as long as Andrew would be here. The only one in the waiting room now is Lindsey. Her back is to me as I open the door, but she sits up fast and turns around, her eyes meeting mine as soon as I enter.

“Hi,” I say, lifting my shoulders, not sure if I should hug her, or thank her, or apologize. Probably all three, but my body doesn’t seem to want to leave the spot where it stopped walking.

“Hi,” she says in return, standing, but not moving closer. We’re both at the same impasse. Her head falls, and she laughs lightly with tears in her eyes. “Andrew said he’d find a way to get me and you together.”

She bites her lip when she looks at me, her head shaking. I move to her, and the closer I get, the less worried I am over everything else. Her arms open to me, and she holds me tight as I cry into her. I cry hard and long, until my face is empty and my heart feels close to normal again. When I finally step away, I keep hold of her hand, and I shake it up and down as I speak, nervous to let her go and so happy to be touching my friend.

She’s here. Of course, she’s here.

“I’m so sorry, Lindsey. God, I’m so sorry,” I say, my face puffy and my voice a pathetic rasp.

“I know,” she says. She doesn’t smile, and her eyes fall from mine quickly. “I was so hurt. I’m still hurt, and that’s going to take time. It’s not that I thought Andrew and I were going to run away and make a life together. Hell, I was starting to think he was gay because the boy never liked to make out for long, and it sure as hell never went anywhere. Though he was a good kisser. Moody as shit, but a good kisser.”

She laughs at this, and I laugh, too. Hers fades, though, and she looks right into my eyes.

“I was hurt because you didn’t tell me something important in your life. You can trust me, Emma. With anything. And the thought that you couldn’t…with Andrew? It hurt.”

I sit in a small chair next to her and look down at my hands. “I didn’t want to hurt you,” I say, not able to look at her when I speak. “It felt like I had to pick, you or him, and I’m so sorry I didn’t have faith in how strong we were. That’s on me, Linds. And I’m so…so deeply sorry.”

I whisper an apology again, but I know its just words. And I know it’s time, like she said, that’s going to truly heal her and me. But she’s here now, when I need her desperately. She’s here. I sense her shadow as she sits next to me on the sofa, and I let myself go, catching her up on what I know—there’s an investigation, they think it’s some smalltime bookie who thought Andrew owed him money.

“So it wasn’t Graham?” she asks. I shake my head no.

It grows quiet between us again for several minutes. I don’t like the quiet. My mind gets carried away, starts imagining the whirling sounds of his machines and beeping and people rushing—Andrew leaving.

“You should try to go home, maybe shower?” Lindsey says, her mouth twisted on one side. “You can…you can come…home. It won’t be easy, but I’ve had time to think, and I don’t want this to be the end of the Emma and Lindsey show. I’m probably going to say bitchy things sometimes, and be totally passive aggressive, but I want to try to…you know…move past it?”

I suck in a sharp breath, my cry surprising me almost as much as her gesture. I reach over and squeeze her hand again, my eyes fluttering as they close and I nod, accepting her offer.

“I missed my classes today. I missed…Miranda,” I say, tucking my lip in, waiting for Lindsey’s response. I’m hoping she’ll give me a solution.

“Yeah, that’s…that isn’t good,” she agrees. “But I think you need to talk to her, Em. You know you can switch mentors, if something’s uncomfortable or if it gets awkward.”