Two hours and forty-five minutes from when they’d walked into the ER, Taylor reappeared. “Come on back. They’ve finished the tests.” She guided them into a small, pale yellow room that had two straight-back chairs, a stool, and a computer desk.

A nondescript doctor introduced himself; Annie immediately forgot his name. Taylor backed out of the room and closed the door behind her.

“Your mother is slightly anemic,” the doctor explained in a low voice. “But that wasn’t reason enough for her to keep losing consciousness. She does, however, have fluid around her lungs. We’re draining it so her breathing will be somewhat better, but we don’t know how long it will be effective. We’ve spoken with her doctor in Boston and reviewed the results of her treatments. At this point there’s nothing left to do except to keep her comfortable. I’m sorry. But, as she has probably told you, the cancer has metastasized to her liver.”

After two, five, ten seconds, Annie put her hand on Kevin’s back, hoping to keep him steady. She hadn’t expected that she’d be the one to wobble, the one to get light-headed. She backed away and sat on one of the chairs.

The doctor resumed talking. He said they would keep Donna for a couple of nights and give her a transfusion to try to build up her red blood cells.

“Can we see her?” Annie asked.

“I think it would be best to let her rest. Perhaps wait until morning?”

Annie glanced at her watch: it was only five-thirty, though the day seemed to have gone on forever.

Then the doctor added, “I understand that Georgia Nelson has met with her? That’s good. Georgia is excellent.”

Kevin turned to Annie, who said, “She was planning to start coming by on Monday.” So Kevin had been right. The plan had been for Georgia to do much more than “keep the cottage tidy” and do Donna’s laundry.

“Many patients find that hospice workers are merciful angels.”

Merciful angels. The description rolled around in Annie’s mind, crisscrossing with Donna’s words: “A bout with cancer,” “I only want to recuperate,” and then, “I might not last until the summer.” Clearly, she had not wanted to tell them the rest. Perhaps she hadn’t known how. “How long does she have?” Annie felt Kevin’s eyes bore into her. She didn’t dare look at him.

“Hard to say. If she’d been my patient all along, I’d have a better idea. Still, everyone is different, so we’re never certain. Based on my conversation with the good folks in Boston, I’d guess a few months. Maybe less. She’s staying in your home?”

“Yes.” Annie still did not look at her brother.