Kate turned a corner and saw a tall, long-haired man in a puffy blue coat and ragged jeans standing at the door to Johnny’s room. A black video camera rested on his shoulder. He was shooting now; she could tell by the red light on the camera.

She ran down the hall, grabbed the man’s puffy coat sleeve, and spun him around. “What in the hell are you doing?” She shoved him so hard he stumbled back, almost fell. It felt good, so good she wished she’d punched him in the face. “Scavenger,” she hissed, switching off the camera with one stab of her finger.

That was when she saw Tully. Her best friend stood at the end of Johnny’s bed, dressed in a red V-neck sweater and black pants, her hair and makeup camera-ready, holding a microphone.

“Oh, my God,” Kate whispered.

“It’s not what you think.”

“You’re not reporting on Johnny’s condition?”

“I am, you know I am, but I was going to talk to you about it. Explain everything. I came up to ask you—”

“With a cameraman,” Kate said, stepping back.

Tully ran over to her, pleading. “My boss called. They’re going to fire me if I don’t get this story. I knew you’d understand if I just told you the truth. You know the news and how much this means to me, but I would never do anything to hurt you or Johnny.”

“How dare you! You’re supposed to be my friend.”

“I am your friend.” Tully’s voice took on an edge of panic. The look in her eyes was so unfamiliar it took Kate a moment to recognize it: fear. “I shouldn’t have started filming, I admit it, but I didn’t think you’d mind. Johnny sure as hell wouldn’t. He’s a newsman, like me. Like you used to be. He knows that the story—”

Kate slapped Tully across the face as hard as she could. “He’s not your story. He’s my husband.” On that last word, Kate’s voice broke. “Get out. Get away.” When Tully didn’t move, Kate screamed, “Now. Get the hell out of this room. It’s family only.”

Beside Johnny’s bed, an alarm blared.

White-clad nurses streamed into the room, pushed Kate and Tully aside. They transferred him to a gurney and wheeled him out of the room.

Kate stood there, staring at the empty sheets of his bed.

“Katie—”

“Get out,” she said dully.

Tully grabbed her sleeve. “Come on, Katie. We’re best friends forever. No matter what. Remember? You need me now.”

“You are hardly the kind of friend I need.” She wrenched free and ran out of the room.

It wasn’t until she was on the second floor, alone in the women’s bathroom, staring at the green metal door of the stall, that she cried.