“What time did you say she’s coming?” I ask to fill the silence.

“About an hour.”

“I’ll get him ready.” Then I leave the room. I can't be in the room with her anymore.

“Savannah,” Ruby calls, stopping me again. I pause, begrudgingly. “I think you should prepare him for the worst.”

Tears fill Ruby’s eyes and I can’t take it. Emotion doesn’t even register in my mind. All I can think is that I can’t tell him. I can't be around when he finds out.

“We need to call the other kids,” she mumbled, her voice shaking.

“She was so awake last night.”

“I know, dear.”

“I have to go,” I stammer as I storm out. It’s too much to process right now.

Murph is still at the shop when Shelby, the hospice nurse, shows up. She’s a young girl, with kind eyes and blonde curls I would kill for. Ruby and I follow her into the bedroom where she takes Hazel’s vitals while she sleeps and talks to us about her behavior.

When Ruby tells her that she had her last two sips of Ensure yesterday morning, it’s like someone sucks all the air out of the room.

“What.” A cold voice barks from the doorway, and none of us notice as Murph stalks into the room.

“Murph,” I breathe.

“Who is this?” the nurse asks, looking at Ruby with confusion.

“Why didn’t anyone tell me?” he asks, stepping in and looking at Hazel, who now looks paler and more gaunt, like she could simply fade into dust at any moment.

“She doesn't want you worrying.” Ruby puts her arm on Murph’s back, but he steps forward, his eyes on me. By anyone he clearly meant me. Why didn’t I tell him?

“I just found out this morning,” I mutter, the emotion I’ve been suppressing starting to surface. I shove it down again, turning away from him. I can’t let my guard down. Instead I give my attention to the nurse.

“What does this mean?” I ask, redirecting the conversation away from Murph.

“I can leave some morphine, and I’ll be checking in more frequently. Drop them into her mouth when she starts to get uncomfortable. But from here on out, we’re just keeping her from the pain. It won’t be long.”

“Fuck that.” Murph’s cheeks are red and his eyes are drilled in on the nurse.

“Murph,” I say, trying to steal his attention back.

“No. Don’t give me that ‘keep her comfortable’ bullshit. There are things we can do. Feeding tubes. There’s gotta be some experimental shit we can try. We don’t fucking just give up.”

“She’s dying, Murph. It’s not fair for us to keep her in pain for our own selfish reasons.”

Now my cheeks are hot and with that glare of pure hatred that he’s aiming right at me, I could melt under the gaze. Maybe I went too far. Maybe my words are cutting his already raw emotions, but I don’t give a shit. He needs to hear the tough truth of it.