Maren did know better. But it seemed like nobody was trying to do anything to help Hallie, and she couldn’t stand waiting any longer. “Should we sing to her?” she said, before she had a chance to blurt out any other incriminating things.

Maren’s mom glanced at the cake and sighed. “I suppose we should.”

A gentle rap sounded on the door, and one of Hallie’s dozens of doctors poked her head inside. “Is this a good time?”

“Of course,” said Maren’s mom.

The doctor gave Maren a little wave, then turned to her mom. “I have the brochures for those long-term-care facilities.”

Long-term care didn’t mean days or weeks. It was an impossible, never-ending amount of time to wait. If Hallie didn’t wake up by next Thursday—ten days from now—she had to move to one of those places where they didn’t expect anybody to get better anytime soon. And their insurance wasn’t going to cover it. Maren’s throat felt lumpy, like it was full of wet papier-mâché.

“I’ll be right back,” she said.

A rainbow unicorn grinned down at her from the hallway wall, and Maren wanted to punch its ridiculous, toothy mouth. She found the drinking fountain and gulped and gulped its metallic water, not stopping to breathe until the world began to swim.

“Leave some for the rest of us,” came a woman’s sharp voice. Usually people said that as a joke, but this person sounded like she really thought Maren was going to drink all the water in the hospital. Wiping her mouth, Maren turned and was surprised to see the woman who’d been in the dream shop earlier. Ms. Malo. She held a drooping, brown plant in a pot, and the white moth perched on her shoulder with its wings folded down.

“Oh…uh, hello,” said Maren.

Showing no sign of recognizing Maren, the woman nudged past and drank deeply from the water fountain, but gave none to her parched plant. She wiped her purple mouth on her sleeve, but the lipstick didn’t budge. Without making eye contact, she turned and clacked away to the double doors at the end of the hall.

“You should put her in the Sterling Center,” she said without looking back.

Maren’s mouth dropped open. “Were you listening to us?”

The door swung shut. Bewildered, Maren headed back toward Hallie’s room.

“I’ll talk to Scott tonight.” Her mother and the doctor emerged. “Thank you again. Maren, I’m just going to use the restroom and then we’ll have our cake.”

The last thing Maren wanted was cake, but she was glad for the time alone with Hallie. As casually as she could, she pushed the door almost all the way shut, leaving just a tiny gap so she could hear her mother coming back. She tiptoed to Hallie’s bed.