She almost laughed. No matter how good a time they’d had on Saturday (Was it only Saturday? It felt like a lifetime ago), their relationship definitely wasn’t ready to survive a frantic phone call from a hospital.

She couldn’t call anyone from work because they needed to get on with their jobs.

She was on her own. There was no one she could call. But she’d cope because that was what she did. And when she was finally able to see her mother she’d be stoic and calm.

Tiredness and anxiety started to press down on her, and she was considering going outside for a breath of air when she saw Nicole hovering at the end of the corridor.

For a moment she thought she was hallucinating.

And then Nicole saw Milly, and her expression changed. She sprinted down the corridor toward her, and they met halfway. Milly found herself hugged and held, and she hugged back, marveling at how this one moment of human contact could do so much to restore her strength.

Eventually she pulled away. “What are you doing here?”

“You left a message. I would have come sooner, but I didn’t check my phone until this morning.”

“I didn’t mean for you to come. I just wanted to let you know.” Milly sniffed and realized her friend wasn’t wearing a wig or any type of disguise. “You shouldn’t be here. Someone will recognize you.”

“Never mind that. How is Connie? How bad is it?”

It was a relief to no longer be on her own with it. To have someone there to share the anxiety.

“She fell off a horse and has a head injury and broken ribs.” Milly told her what she knew, which wasn’t much. “How did you get here?”

“Joel.” Nicole gestured over her shoulder. “He’s parking the car.”

“You came with Joel?”

“It’s a long story.”

Milly still couldn’t believe she was here. “About what I said yesterday—”

“Let’s talk about it later.” Nicole gave her hand a squeeze. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you last time you needed me, but I’m here for you now. If you want me, that is.”

If?

Milly knew she should probably encourage her to leave right away. She’d spent enough time with Nicole to know that her presence was unlikely to go undetected.

And yet, even knowing that, her friend was here.

“Don’t cry.” Nicole pulled out a tissue and rubbed a smear of mascara from Milly’s cheek. “You’re emotional because you’re tired. You’ve always been the same. If you don’t get your eight hours, you’re a mess.”