Lauren had had three appointments with Dr. Bennett, the pulmonologist. Three appointments in three months, with a few reschedulings because of snow and the holidays and the thrill of making new traditions. They had had the Kims and Stephanie over for Pepero Day, a sweet Korean holiday that seemed to exist solely to celebrate friendship. Then there was Thanksgiving—the big meal at Jen’s, including Stephanie, then dessert at the Kims’, because all four of their kids had been home and had wanted to see Josh and meet her. They had a brunch that weekend with all their local friends, and Lauren had felt so happy and grown up, cooking and cleaning for her former classmates and colleagues, showing them their beautiful home.

Then it was Christmastime, and they had their first major fight over Josh not going to her office party. They made up, of course, went on the holiday stroll and celebrated Jen’s birthday. On New Year’s Eve, they hosted a party—Sarah and her date (who passed out on the couch before nine p.m.), Louise, Santino, Bruce and Tom, Mara, Asmaa and her honey, Jen and Darius. Even with the drunk guy, it had been a blast, and they’d gone up to the rooftop to watch the fireworks. The Kims had had them over for lunar New Year, another big celebration, and had invited Lauren’s mom, too, which was awfully nice.

In other words, it had been easy to forget that she was a little out of breath for no apparent reason.

But now the holidays were over, and Lauren had no more excuses. She kept telling herself not to be nervous. They’d already said it wasn’t cancer. No sign of a tumor on her chest X-ray, thank God. But they wanted an MRI now, too.

She was fine, she reminded herself. Young. Healthy. Blissfully happy. Sex at least three times a week, usually more. Yoga classes and the gym on the first floor. Did she get out of breath? Of course! That was the point.

She was just . . . tired. She had asthma, and maybe chronic bronchitis. If she felt weary and heavy sometimes, wasn’t that just because she worked out? It was a good sign, damn it.

It was that intern in the ER who’d first given her that tremor of fear. That pause. No one wants a doctor to pause before reassuring you.

But she’d been tested for a lung infection. A virus, though she tested negative for everything they could test for. Low-grade pneumonia on top of asthma? Chronic sinus infection with postnasal drip and acid reflux?

They couldn’t quite pin it down.