“Ms. Riscoff has a nanny with them at the hotel for now. Karma didn’t want them to see her like this.”

Hunter’s expression creases, and I wonder if he’s thinking that if Karma isn’t lying, it’s his responsibility to take care of the girls because she can’t. My heart thuds somewhere down in my stomach as the reality of the situation hits me.

It must be bad.

“What did they say?” I ask. “You mentioned surgery? When?”

“Later this afternoon. They’re going to try to remove the tumor. They just did images of it. They said it’s the size of a cantaloupe.” Jackie bursts into tears, and Cricket squeezes her mom tight.

“Oh my God, Mom. How is this even possible? How could she think . . .”

“The doctor explained it all. Ovarian cancer mimics plenty of signs that can make you think you’re actually pregnant, even a positive pregnancy test. Karma said when she took hers a month or so ago, it was positive. She never had a reason to think it was anything but another baby. She didn’t go to the doctor yet because she didn’t want us to find out.”

I know what we’re all thinking, but no one will say it, because it would make us all heartless, awful people. But the very nature of my cousin’s name suggests that what goes around comes around.

I don’t want her to suffer or be sick, but this seems like life’s awful way of serving her a reminder that things don’t always go the way we plan.

“Can I see her?” Cricket asks.

Jackie swallows and looks sheepish. “She . . . After I called Whit, I told her you were coming, and she said she doesn’t want to see any of you. She doesn’t want anyone’s pity. I’m so sorry. I—”

Cricket turns away, but not before I see how crushed she is by Jackie’s words.

Hunter pulls her into his chest and holds her. “I’m so sorry, babe.”

“Is there anything else you need or that we can do to help, Ms. Gable?” Lincoln asks.

My aunt shakes her head. “No. Everyone’s been very kind. They said they’re doing everything they can, and for now . . . all we can do is wait until they take her into the OR and get this awful thing out of her.”

“Good. I’m glad they have a solid plan in place.” Lincoln looks toward the private waiting rooms we’ve both sat in while life as we knew it shifted off its axis. He notices my gaze following his. “There’s another waiting room up on the fourth floor, I believe. In the cancer wing. It’s new and comfortable.”

How is it possible that my heart feels like it’s breaking for Jackie and Cricket about Karma, but is being held together by Lincoln?

“If she changes her mind about seeing anyone, I promise I’ll come get you,” Jackie says.

Forty-Two

Lincoln

I hate feeling powerless and helpless. I can’t fix this for Whitney and her family, and with each tick of the clock in the waiting room, it’s maddening. Everyone in this room has to be struggling with the same conflicting emotions. Angry at Karma for what she’s done, but devastated by what she’s facing. Whitney’s brother ducked in to say hi, but he’s taken it upon himself to stand vigil by Karma’s door, whether she wants him there or not.