‘Easy there, sport,’ Nick said as he gently pushed her shoulder until she was fully reclined again. Then he eased himself onto the side of her bed, careful not to make contact with anything but the hand he gently grasped in his own. ‘You don’t want to rip out your stitches. Welcome back, lazy bones.’ His lips may have formed a smile, but the sadness that filled his eyes was something Rachel had only witnessed once before – the day their mother had taken their new puppy to be put down after it had chewed the leg of one of her chairs.

‘Mom and Dad?’ Her voice was scratchy, and her throat was on fire. ‘Water?’

Nick leaned over and dragged a table on wheels closer to the bed, and then he reached behind and above her head and pushed a button that slowly elevated her bed until she was no longer lying flat. Only then did he hold a cup for her, placing the straw in her mouth. ‘Only a little,’ he whispered. ‘You don’t want to get sick.’

Even if she’d wanted more, the pain of swallowing prevented her from having any. Still, the coolness of the water felt good on her raw throat. After another careful sip, she turned her head so the straw would fall out. The bed shifted as her brother replaced the cup on the table before settling back down beside her, as if he was afraid to allow more than a breath of space between the two of them.

‘Mom and Dad?’

His silence spoke louder than his words.

‘They were here a while ago, but they left when the doctors said you needed your rest.’

When Nick lied, one eye twitched, and he always stared off to the left, like he was doing now.

The fissure in her heart widened. How much more could she take before she broke completely? ‘It’s okay, Nicholas. You don’t have to lie.’

Moisture pooled before one lone tear escaped down his cheek. ‘I’m sorry, sis.’

‘No, don’t be. You’re here. That’s what matters the most.’

A sudden sharp pain hammered at Rachel’s head, and she sucked in a breath at the excruciating sensation, her eyes closing of their own accord. When the throbbing subsided, she reopened her eyes, catching the fury etched across the lines of Nick’s face before he could smooth out his features.

It was her undoing, and she began to cry softly.

Startled, Nick eased himself off the bed so as not to jostle her. ‘I’m going to get the doctor. He can give you something.’

Rachel shook her head. ‘Don’t leave me.’

His pained stare bounced from her face to the door and back again. ‘Please, Rach, the doctor can give you pain medicine to help.’

While escaping from everything, including the pain, had never sounded so appealing, she knew she couldn’t risk slipping into a nightmare, one in which the drugs would trap her. As it was, the nightmares would shadow her for the rest of her life. ‘No, no drugs.’