Page 26 of Nineteen Eighty

She picked up the phone once more, and this time she did book a flight.

To Washington, D.C.

“Sorennnnnn!” Maureen howled in tandem with the push she gave after the doctor reminded her babies didn’t deliver themselves.

Colleen held tight to one of her hands, while Irish Colleen mopped a cool washcloth against her brow.

“Careful what you say. Your husband might hear all the way down in the waiting room,” Irish Colleen admonished.

“He knows this little asshole isn’t his!” Maureen screamed, heaving short, tight breaths through her angst. “Hell’s bells, Alain, come on already!”

Colleen glanced back at the door every few minutes or so. She had a fear Soren might show up, despite his assurances to Maureen that he understood what was expected of him once his son was born. But Soren had loved Maureen for half a decade now, and Colleen knew that was a switch not so easily turned off—for either of them. While she would’ve supported Maureen through any decision, even leaving Edouard for Soren, Maureen was committed to returning to her family and the promise Edouard had made to try harder, for all of them. A decision that could only be made by full commitment to the choice.

“Sweet mother of Jesus!” Maureen released at the top of her lungs, pitching forward as Irish Colleen rubbed her back, coaxing her to breathe.

“Not much longer,” the doctor promised. “Just a few more big pushes, Maureen. You ready?”

Maureen threw her head back and screeched in response as she bared down.

Joseph Collins met Evangeline in the waiting room. She’d met him before, but he looked different. Older.

“She didn’t tell me, either,” he managed to say, pacing a tight line. “She never tells me anything, that silly kid.” He shook his head, as if they were talking about her decision to cut her hair short. His hands shook. “I talked to the doctor, and, uh, he seemed to think she might not…” Joseph looked at the ceiling, closing his eyes against the glare of the harsh fluorescent lighting. “Well, that this might be her last night on earth, Evangeline.”

Evangeline’s knees turned to jelly. Joseph caught her before she fell, easing her into a nearby chair.

“I know it’s hard to process. I’m not doing any better,” Joseph said. He leaned into a pillar. “It’s always been like Cassie to keep things to herself, but this time…”

“I know,” Evangeline. She tried to look up. He was in shock, and needing her to say something to make it better, or easier, to accept. But there wasn’t anything. Cassie’s glioblastoma was incurable, and now, was taking her into the final stage of her life. Her peculiar behavior over the past months had an explanation, and it was worse than anyone could have ever feared.

But she had to pull herself together, because there was still time to heal her.

“Is she awake?”

“She comes in and out,” Joseph replied, glancing around the room, searching for something. Bearings. Strength. This was one case he couldn’t solve, and she saw every second that ticked by slowly killing him, too.

“Can I see her?”

“Of course. Yes. Yes, of course, come on.”

He shuffled down the hall, past several rooms. When he came to hers, he let Evangeline go first and started to follow her, but then said, “I’ll give you a few minutes with her alone.”

She was grateful. She hadn’t wanted to ask for such a precious gift, not when Cassie’s minutes could now be measured in the smallest of doses, but she could focus better if alone.

Evangeline wasn’t prepared for what awaited her in the private room. Cassie’s beautiful golden hair was gone, replaced by a mess of thin regrowth; her full cheeks were gaunt and drawn, the color missing altogether.

Cassie was asleep, and as much as Evangeline had things she needed to say to her beloved friend, if her healing worked, then both she and Joseph would have as many minutes as they desired with Cassandra. That was all she could think about now, seeing her best friend whole and healthy again. Erasing the poison that had eaten away at her these past months while she suffered, stubbornly, alone.

Evangeline bowed her head and spread her arms over Cassie’s thin frame. She inhaled, more a symbolic pull of strength than anything. And then she did something she’d done a hundred times before, though never on a scale of this magnitude. She healed.

Cassie’s gravelly voice broke her concentration. “I know what you’re trying to do, you crazy bitch.”

Evangeline whipped her head up. “Cassie.”

Cassie reached a weak hand forward and cupped Evangeline’s cheeks. “I’ve always know what you can do, Evie. And it won’t work on me.”

Evangeline’s tears ran quietly, unabated. “How the hell do you know what will work and won’t work?”

“Because you and I both know about consent,” Cassie said. Evangeline had to strain to hear her. “I’m tired, Evie. It’s not only the cancer. I’ve been tired for a long time.”

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