“I know. But—Are you sure you’re all right.” The light in the room went on.

She continued to face the window because she didn’t want Molly to see that she’d been crying. She heard the soft padding of Pooh’s paws on the carpet. “It’s just a headache.”

“You and Dan had a fight, didn’t you?”

“Dan and I are always fighting.”

“You tease each other, but you don’t really fight.”

“This wasn’t teasing, Molly. This was the real thing.”

There was a long pause. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t know why you would be. You hate my guts, remember?” She knew it wasn’t fair to take out her unhappiness on Molly, but she was past caring. Pooh nudged at her ankles, almost as if she were reprimanding her.

“I don’t hate you, Phoebe.”

Fresh tears clouded her eyes. “I need to be alone, okay?”

“You’re crying.”

“Just a temporary weakness. I’ll get over it.”

“Don’t cry. Dan would feel bad if he knew he’d made you so sad.”

“I sincerely doubt that.”

“I think you’re in love with him.”

She swallowed hard as tears rolled down her cheeks. “I’ll get over that, too.”

She felt a gentle hand on her arm. Her throat closed tight and something seemed to break apart inside her. Without quite knowing how it happened, she was in Molly’s arms.

Molly patted her arm and rubbed her back. “Don’t cry, Phoebe. Please, don’t cry. It’ll get better. Really, it will. Don’t cry.” Molly crooned to her just as she crooned to Pooh. Since she was several inches shorter than Phoebe, their position was awkward, but they held on to each other anyway.

Phoebe had no idea how long they stayed that way, but nothing on earth could have made her let her sister go. When she was finally cried out, Molly pulled away, only to return a few moments later with some tissues she’d fetched from the bathroom.

Phoebe sat down on the side of the bed and blew her nose. “It’ll be better tomorrow. I’m just feeling sorry for myself.”

The mattress sagged as Molly sat beside her. Several moments of silence ticked by. “Are you pregnant?”

Phoebe looked at her with startled eyes. “Why would you think that?”

“A girl in my ancient history class is pregnant. I know it can happen, even to older people who are supposed to know about birth control and everything. If you are, I’m sure Dan would want to marry you, but if he didn’t—The two of us—” She spoke in a rush. “I’d help you take care of the baby. You wouldn’t have to have an abortion, or give it away, or raise it by yourself or anything.”

As Phoebe took in the intensity of her sister’s expression, some of her numbness disappeared, and she gave a watery smile. “I’m not pregnant. But thanks. Thanks a lot.”

“You’re not going to start crying again, are you?”

Phoebe nodded and blew her nose. “I can’t help it. That was the sweetest thing anybody’s ever offered to do for me.” She gave a small hiccup. “I love you, Mol. I really do.”