“What?” Betrayal scorched Libby so fast her skin hurt. “How could you?”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Libby,” Karen said irritably. “You of all people should know that no one deserves to be alone in the hospital.”

“But she—”

“Do you know what’s wrong with her?” Nick asked.

“Yes.”

For the first time since Karen walked in, Libby scrutinized her mother. The remnants of the previous week’s emotional whiplash were sketched in the lines on her face, but Alice had called late the night before reassuring Libby she’d spoken to their parents. “We had a long talk and things are good, Libs. When I think about the crapshoot of life, do you know how lucky we are to have them as our parents?”

Libby had opened her mouth to say she’d known that since she’d met Linda Dekic, but that memory brought back the permanent problem of Linda’s daughter and her child. Fury had cut off her words along with not wanting to give Alice an opportunity to comment on the fact Nick was sleeping on Freedom. She’d murmured her agreement instead.

For the first time in a very long time, Libby knew her mother’s stressed demeanor wasn’t about Alice and a creeping sense of dread crawled through her. “What’s her diagnosis?”

Karen’s eyes filled with shadows and she took hold of Libby’s hands. “It’s not good. She’s riddled with cancer.”

“Shit.” Nick’s face drained of color.

Libby pulled her hands away from Karen’s, struggling to feel anything. She fell back on doctor mode. “Where’s the primary?”

“They’re pretty certain it’s ovarian cancer. The blood test comes back tomorrow, but does it even matter?” Karen’s voice trembled. “I thought she’d let herself go. Thought she was drinking too much because of everything, but her weight gain is fluid—”

“Ascites,” Libby said automatically. “It happens when the cancer’s in the liver.”

“It’s not just in her liver. It’s in her bowel, her lungs, her bones. It’s everywhere!”

“But they can treat it, right?” Nick asked.

Libby didn’t need her medical knowledge to answer the question—one look at Karen’s face told her everything. “They’ll keep her comfortable.”

“So, you’re saying she’s—” Nick’s voice was strangled. “How long has she got?”

Karen blew her nose. “They’ve told her weeks.”

Nick swore.

Libby stared out the window, watching the whitecaps far out to sea. The emotions of the others eddied around her, but none touched the dead weight inside her that held all her feelings for Jess: anger, pain and hurt. Regret? No. The only regret was that Jess had jettisoned their friendship and her trust on a selfish whim.

“She wants to come home,” Karen said.

“Is she well enough?” Nick asked.

“Palliative care will organize things,” Libby said flatly.