Parr’s intent gaze moved over his brother’s face, studying the hollows under Bobby Joe’s eyes and the deeply drawn lines of strain around his mouth. For a while he said nothing.

“I have to go,” Parr said softly to him. “Mary Beth is still here.”

Bobby Joe stirred in his sleep as if he was reacting to hearing her name.

His older brother heaved a sigh that could have come from the bottom of his soul. “All right. Call me if you need me, Mary Beth.”

She was struck by how much meaning there was in his routine words. For her, anyway. Parr had no idea how much she needed him. But Bobby Joe was her priority now. That was how it had to be.

Parr paused for a moment, looking down at her. He was bold enough to bend over her chair, but the kiss he gave her was nothing special. A brief press of the lips against her hair, that was all.

She didn’t look up. He strode out, saying nothing more, not even good-bye.

Mary Beth stayed for another half hour, until Bobby Joe’s breathing was deep and regular. Only then did she tiptoe out.

“Hello,” a different nurse, a new one, said. “Are you Mary Beth? I heard you’re here a lot.”

“Yes. But I come and go. I might take the rest of the afternoon off, actually. I should be back tonight.”

“Oh. Well, I go off shift around five-thirty. I could leave a note for Mr. Weston to let him know you’re out.”

Mary Beth shook her head. “You don’t have to. He knows he can count on me.”

Parr wandered down the hall of a lower floor, not Alma’s. The layout was about the same on each. No one knew him down here. He was looking for the meditation room and he found it.

The doors were open and no one was inside. Benches and chairs made of blond wood were placed a discreet distance apart to create privacy for visitors who wanted to be alone with their thoughts. The pale-toned walls created a soothing atmosphere.

Parr chose a chair and sat down. What a jolt. He’d seen Mary Beth by his brother’s bed dozens of times. But Bobby Joe had been out of it, one way or another, until very recently. Today, he was speaking in coherent sentences at last, though slowly. And Mary Beth had told him, right in front of Parr, that she was his girl.

Only a heartless bastard could come between them now.

Parr couldn’t do it. He wanted her desperately, more than ever, but he couldn’t satisfy a desire so purely selfish—and ultimately destructive.