Casper doesn't look at me. "You saved him because you've got a thing for him. He's like you. Broken, but fixable."

I stare at my hands while Casper stares at nothing and for a few minutes we sit like that, because there's no point in trying to deny the things she knows and I won't insult her by trying to lie. Instead I say, quietly, "I don't want you to go."

"It's going to happen."

My voice catches. "How do you...do it? Worry about other peoples' problems when..."

"What else is there for me to worry about? I don't want to keep dwelling on death and dying." She sighs. "I don't have a lot of time. But I have an awful lot of regrets. The most I can do is make sure I don't leave behind a mess I could've helped clean up. I want you and Adam to be taken care of."

From the corner of my eyes, I catch sight of the pill bottles on her nightstand. Pain medications? I don't know. I'm afraid to. But I have to know something, some kind of details. "What kind of cancer is it?"

Casper actually glances at me, like she's surprised I grew a pair long enough to ask. "Cervical."

Cervical cancer. Not something I know anything about, so I say, "Oh."

"I started getting these back and leg pains. Stopped eating, lost weight." She smiles distantly. "Cervical cancer doesn't have many symptoms until it spreads. That's why a Gyno checks for it. They even have vaccinations for it now. Except I'd never gotten around to going in for a routine checkup, and then I ignored the symptoms for so long that by the time I did get seen, the cancer had gotten into all the organs below my lungs." She shrugs and closes her eyes. "I got a complete hysterectomy. Ovaries, uterus, the whole shebang. Underwent radiation, cryotherapy, chemo. But it wasn't enough. My parents blame themselves for not making me go in sooner. I really think it doesn't matter. Everything had to happen in just the right way for it to have become fatal. If it's anyone's fault, it's mine for ignoring the signs."

Without thinking, I reach out to grab her hand. It's small and thin and birdlike in my grip, but I want...something. A kind of contact. Reassurance that this isn't her fault because how could she have possibly known? Reassurance to myself that, at least for now, she's here and alive and I ought to cherish that.

Casper stares at our joined hands for a long while, expressionless, before she shifts her hand in order to wrap her fingers around mine in return. She curls into me, tucked against my side, and lays her head on my shoulder.

I turn to murmur against her short hair, "I'm afraid."

"Of what? Living? It's not so bad."

"No. I'm afraid of you going away."

Casper sighs. I can't see her face. "Yeah," she whispers. "So am I."