Above her, as she lay in the dark room, the nurse and radiologist exchanged a look.

“What?” Kate said, hearing fear in her voice now.

When the ultrasound was over, she was again shuffled out of the exam room and deposited back in the waiting room. Like all the other women in the small room, she read magazines, trying to concentrate on random sentences and Bundt cake recipes; anything except the results of the ultrasound.

It’ll be fine, she told herself whenever the worry crept through. Nothing to worry about. Cancer wasn’t something that crept up on you; certainly not breast cancer. There were warning signs and she watched for them religiously. It had already struck her family once with Aunt Georgia, so they were vigilant. One by one, the other women left; still Kate waited.

Finally, a plump, doe-eyed nurse came for her. “Kathleen Ryan?”

She stood up. “Yes?”

“I’m going to take you across the hall. Dr. Krantz is waiting to do a biopsy on you.”

“Biopsy?”

“Just to be sure. Come on.”

Kate couldn’t seem to move; she could barely nod. Clutching her purse, she stumbled along behind the nurse. “My last mammogram was clear, you know. I do regular self-exams, too.”

She wished suddenly that Johnny were here, holding her hand, telling her everything was going to be fine.

Or Tully.

She took a deep breath and tried to control her fear. Once, several years ago, she’d had a bad pap smear and needed a biopsy. It had ruined a weekend, waiting for results, but in the end she’d been fine. Remembering that, clinging to it like a life ring in cold, turbulent water, she followed the silent nurse to the office down the hall. The sign by the door read: THE GOODNO FOUNDATION CANCER CARE CENTER.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

CHAPTER
THIRTY-THREE

Tully was awakened by the phone ringing. She came awake hard, looked around. It was 2:01 in the morning. She reached over and answered. “Hello?”

“Is this Tallulah Hart?”

She rubbed her eyes. “Yes. Who is this?”

“My name is Lori Witherspoon. I’m a nurse at Harborview Hospital. We have your mother here. Dorothy Hart.”

“What happened?”

“We’re not sure. It looks like a drug overdose, but she was pretty badly beaten up, too. The police are waiting to question her.”

“Did she ask for me?”

“She’s unconscious. We found your name and number in her things.”

“I’ll be right there.”

Tully got dressed in record time and was on the road by 2:20. She pulled into the parking lot at the hospital and went to the desk.

“Hello. I’m here to see my mother, Cl—uh, Dorothy Hart.”

“Sixth floor, Ms. Hart. Go to the nurses’ desk.”

“Thanks.” Tully went upstairs and was directed to her mother’s room by a tiny woman in a pale orange nurse’s uniform.

Inside the shadowy room there were two beds. The one nearest the door was empty.