“You shouldn’t have been watching,” Kate admonishes.

“I know, but I don’t think they noticed.”

Their voices grow fainter as they walk back down the hallway toward the kitchen.

The last thing I want them to do is call my mother and worry her, but I am too tired to call out in protest. So the next time I wake she is there, on the chair in the corner of the room, reading a book. When I roll over, she tucks her bookmark inside the pages and places the book down on my drawers.

“Hey, sleepyhead.” Her voice is cheerful, but with some effort behind it. She crosses the room to sit carefully on the side of my bed. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired.”

“Any pain?”

“No,” I lie. My whole body hurts, but there is a pain in my shoulder and lower back that stands out, and I am scared. I knew this was coming; it was always going to get worse. What if I’m not strong enough to cope with it?

“You’re lying,” she says. “I need to know if it’s worse than usual. You don’t have to put up with pain; they have ways of managing it.”

I close my eyes. “Good night, Mum.”

“When you wake up we’re talking about this,” she warns. “The girls have made up a bed for me on the couch. I’m not going anywhere.”

I wake up, choking and disorientated. Something is in my throat. I am wet, my hair, my face, the bed around me. I try to call out but can only gargle. I’m dying. I always thought I would know when it was my time. But I don’t know, and I’m not ready. I have only just found James, and I have my wedding to attend. I don’t want to die, not here, not now. With effort, I roll over and push with my legs until I am teetering on the edge of the bed. I can’t breathe. Everything is going black. I fall.

Blink.

There’s a bright light above me. It must be the one people speak of, the one I’m supposed to go toward. No one told me how I am supposed to do that, though.

“Shit, what the hell. Ava! Ava, wake up.”

Someone, Kate, is cradling my head, slapping my cheek.

“What’s happening?” Amanda, sleepy.

“I don’t know. I just heard a thump and came to check. Turned the light on and found her on the floor. She fell out of bed, I think, but something’s wrong, she’s making an awful sound.”

Blink.

“What is it? What’s going…Oh no, oh, Ava.” I feel a rush of air as my mother drops to the floor beside me. “She’s choking. Roll her over, into the recovery position. No, like this—grab her leg, her left leg. Straighten it out and hold her. Keep her like that while I call for an ambulance.” My mother’s voice is trembling with her fear. “Don’t you dare do this, girl, not yet.”