He pulled up in front of the ER doors, got out and carried her inside. “My wife has pulmonary fibrosis, and it looks like she has pneumonia. She’s a patient of Dr. Bennett’s, and she needs a bed. Now.”

They listened to him. She was a frequent flier here, after all.

Then she was in a bed, and there were a lot of people around her, and they were saying the too-familiar words—sats down, temperature up, heart rate too fast.

“Lauren? We’re going to intubate you, hon,” said Carol, one of her favorite nurses.

Lauren looked at Josh, his face tight with fear, held up her hand with the thumb, forefinger and pinkie sticking up. I love you in sign language. Then she made the L sign and put it against her forehead. Loser. Their little joke. Her arm flopped back on the bed.

He managed a smile. “I love you, too, loser.” One of the nurses gave him a sharp look, and Lauren smiled. There was the pinch of a needle, and then she was floating on the darkness.

Later, Jen was also there.

“Fight it, sis,” she whispered, her eyes wet.

Lauren nodded, squeezed Jen’s hand, fell back into the nothingness of sedation. Was she dying? The pneumonia was different this time, heavier, bigger.

The next time she woke up, there was her mom, white-faced, hair messy. Sarah, murmuring something, smelling nice. More sleeping. Stephanie, smiling encouragingly. “You’re doing fine, sweetheart,” she said. “Rest.”

And always, Josh, calm, steady, there every time she opened her eyes. She knew time was passing because of the stubble on his face. Oh, Josh. She loved him so much. She wanted to know how sick she was, but she couldn’t talk, so she just raised her eyebrows and looked at him.

He didn’t move for a minute, then gave a small nod. “It’s pretty bad, honey.”

She pressed her hands together to make a heart, and he smiled, but tears were in his eyes. Then sleep pulled her again, down, down, into the soft, comforting blackness.

Later, she was asleep but not as much. Floating. Something large and heavy was on her chest, and even with the ventilator pushing air into her, she could tell it wasn’t enough. She was so tired. Even though she’d been asleep, she was exhausted.

Was this it? Was she really dying this time? She wanted Pebbles, her sweet little companion through all this. She wanted to see the kids, but she didn’t want them to be scared or . . . and then she was back in the nothingness.

Awake again. Josh in a different shirt. Time had passed, then. She just wanted to look at him, drink him in. Jen was crying, so unlike her. Lauren raised her middle finger, and smiled around the tube, and everyone laughed. Josh kissed her hand, and oh, that smile, those eyes, his beautiful face.