“Oh, Mary, how is he doing?” She takes my place next to Travis, folding his hands into her own just as I have done. Even in his fever-induced sleep he leans his head toward hers.

I'm sure that he can smell the sunshine and that he craves it just as we all do. “Travis,” she calls out to him, her voice soft as a breath. “Travis.” She takes a hand and brushes it over his forehead and he groans softly. When she trails her hand down his cheek he presses his face against her.

Watching his reaction to her makes me ache so hard I can barely stand to watch. It is the same feeling as when I stood before my brother and he told me I had to go to the Sisterhood because no one had spoken for me. The same hollowness tunneling out from the center of my self.

For a moment I want to pull Cass away from the bed, away from Travis. I want to yell at him and tell him that she is not me and he should be responding to me that way. That I am the one who has been here since the beginning.

But I don't. Because I want to believe there is a reason that Cass hasn't come to visit since Travis was hurt. Because I know that she's delicate and that even this, even seeing him feverish and groaning, is almost too much for her to bear. Even though he is her intended, even though the four of us have grown up together and have been friends for as long as I can remember.

Between the two of us she has always been the weaker one and I have always felt the need to protect her. That she is even here at all is a testament to how much she cares for him, and realizing this makes me feel even more hollow and foolish for ever having thought myself in love with Travis.

She has his hand against her cheek now and is silent as tears stream out of her eyes. “How long has he been like this?” she asks me. “When will he be better? When will he wake up?” I look to Sister Tabitha because I'm not allowed to speak and she steps forward, between me and Cass, and begins to answer her questions. I am relieved to have the burden of explanation lifted from my shoulders and I move away from the bed, away from Cass and Travis and Sister Tabitha, and give them privacy to speak.

“Hello, Mary,” Harry says. I have forgotten that he is even in the room, hovering along the wall by the door, and I nod back at him in greeting. His dark hair is longer than the last time I saw him, and is tucked behind his ears. It makes his cheekbones look sharp and severe. We are standing shoulder to shoulder and I feel my body flush with anger and shame at this boy who rejected me. “Sister Tabitha told us that you wouldn't be able to speak, that you had taken some sort of a vow, but I think Cass just forgot.”