Greer Thaysden moves through her Palm Beach home with all the elegance of the swan she is.

“Could I get you a cup of tea or coffee or anything?”

I shook my head.

She is kind and warm, with a graciousness that exudes from every pore.

“The story you’re getting today may not be the one you imagined,” she said as she sat down on the white leather couch in the open, airy room and gestured for me to do the same at the other end. I would have preferred to be across from her in a chair; sitting beside her felt so intimate. I knew already that what was coming next wasn’t something I was going to want to hear. I glanced out the window at the totally unobstructed view of the Intracoastal beyond.

“I am dying, Amelia,” she said. “I know you think you’re here to publish a story about my valiant battle with ovarian cancer, but this is going to be a different story.”

The tears in my eyes embarrassed me.

“I invited you here today because I am planning to move to a right-to-die state so that I can take my own life. My cancer is not responding to treatments, and I will not have my family or my husband remember me as a rotting vegetable.”

I felt my entire body go numb. “You can’t do that!” I exclaimed, shocking myself.

She crossed her arms. “Are you one of those journalists who thinks every piece is an opinion piece? Because, if so, this isn’t really going to work.”

She actually smiled when she said it, as though we were discussing the possibility of her running for governor, not some Dr. Kevorkian wannabe sticking a needle in her arm as her family watched the breath leave her body. I closed my notebook and put my pen down beside me. I wasn’t going to take notes on this. This was a story I was going to rewrite.

“No, I just mean, with all the medical advances being made, you don’t know what could happen. Maybe alternative treatments would work for you. Look at Kris Carr.”

She looked shocked. Clearly, this wasn’t the interview she’d been expecting, either. I wondered if anyone in her life ever argued with Greer McCann Thaysden. Judging from the expression on her face, I’d say not. Her shock was turning to amusement. “I find it strange that you seem to be taking this harder than some of my best friends.”

I turned away from her, so she wouldn’t see the blush creeping up my cheeks. If I wasn’t uncomfortable enough already, with her in her perfectly fitted dress and me in the skirt and top that I had thought were so fashionable when I had put them on that morning but now realized were far too trendy, this was adding insult to injury. I think this was why Greer and I had never become close. When I was around her, I always felt less than, through no fault of hers. And then… maybe it was in my head, but I also couldn’t help but feel like any time Parker and I were simply chatting at a party, she suddenly appeared. Or when we shared a laugh or an inside joke, it grated on her nerves. Then again, I would always remind myself, Greer Thaysden couldn’t possibly feel threatened by anyone.