Jolie put the pedal to the metal, and we streaked south. In the Sunset Villa lot, we screeched to a crooked stop next to Greer’s luxury vehicle, popped our seat belts and bolted.

The reception area was completely empty, which could be either a very good sign or a very bad one. We didn’t stop to deliberate.

Three women in too-cheerful print scrubs hovered in the corridor outside Lillian’s room, murmuring to each other. Jolie and I zipped past them and came upon one of those scenes that stick in a person’s memory forever.

Greer stood next to Lillian’s bed, a metal pitcher in one upraised hand, ready to swing. She looked unbalanced, her eyes glittering with ferocious purpose. An octogenarian security guard faced her, his back to us.

It was a standoff, but that wasn’t the most interesting thing.

Lillian was sitting up in bed, her eyes bright, a crooked but cognizant smile on her mouth.

“My—daughters—” she said, laboriously but with proud clarity.

Greer slowly lowered the pitcher and turned to stare. Jolie and I brushed past the befuddled guard on either side, like water flowing around a rock in a rushing stream.

“Lillian!” I gasped. “You can talk—”

She shook her head. “Too—hard—” she said, gargling the words like mouthwash. “Soon—though.” With that, she raised both her arms, and Greer and Jolie and I all scrambled to do the huddle thing.

Lillian clung to us, managed somehow to plant awkward kisses on each of our faces. I felt tears against my cheek, and couldn’t have said who they belonged to, because we were all crying.

“This is highly irregular,” one of the nurse’s aides protested.

“Get lost,” Greer sniffled.

Lillian waited until we all receded. Then, eyes shining, she cupped our faces in her withered hands, each in our turn.

I came last, and by then she looked serious again.

“Be—careful—” Lillian said fiercely. “Queen. Page. Death.”

I knew she was referring to the Tarot cards she’d given me during that earlier visit. “I don’t understand,” I whispered, frustrated to the point of desperation.

Her hands tightened on either side of my skull. She kissed my forehead, closed her eyes and sighed.

For a moment, I was electrified with fear. I thought she’d died.

“She’s sleeping, Moje,” Jolie reasoned gently, pulling me away. “She’s just sleeping.”

Greer remained close to Lillian’s bedside, took one of her hands, held it tightly in both her own. She looked terrified, as though she thought she would sink into some abyss if she let go.

Jolie tugged me out into the corridor.

The trio of nurse’s aides and the security guard receded a few steps, like a sluggish tide, wide-eyed with alarm.

“How long has my stepmother been awake?” Jolie demanded.