“I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying with her,” I say, but Nichole grips my hand tight.

“Myla, I’ll be fine. Go get some rest and then come back tomorrow morning.”

“No, I’m not leaving you.”

With a heavy sigh, Nichole says, “Don’t make me call security on you. You know I would, and it won’t end well.”

“But you need someone here with you.”

“I need someone who has a clear head, and the only way that can happen is if you get some rest. Now please, go with Ryot, and I’ll see you in the morning. Maybe you can bring me some Frankie donuts tomorrow.”

“I’ll bring you whatever you want.”

Nichole smiles. “Then bring me a pistachio, red velvet, and that blueberry crumble goodness.” She squeezes my hand. “Seriously, go. And get some sleep. What time is it now?”

“Two in the morning,” Ryot says. “But that’s midnight for us, given we’re operating on Pacific Time.”

“After a big day. Don’t come back here until at least ten. Understood?”

“Nichole—”

“I’m serious, Myla. Don’t come back here until then.”

I sigh heavily. I don’t want to leave her, but I also know Nichole always gets what she wants, so if she wants me out of here to get some sleep, then that’s what I’m going to do. Doubtful I’ll get any rest, though.

“Okay.” I lean down and press a kiss on her bandaged head. “I’ll see you tomorrow at ten.”

“With donuts.”

“With donuts,” I say, and then I walk over to Ryot, who offers his hand, and I take it.

“Let us know if you need anything else, Nichole,” he says before we exit the room.

Together, we head toward the elevator and then out of the hospital in silence, where a car is waiting for us—different from the one that collected us from the airport. Ryot opens the door for me and helps me buckle up before he goes to his side and slides in toward the middle, where he loops his arm around me and pulls me in tight.

That’s when I break down again.

Through sobs, I hear him whisper about how much he’s here for me. How he loves me. How he will take care of me.

But none of it sinks in because all I can think about is how my best friend is dying, and I can’t do anything about it.

* * *

RYOT

“Hello?” I whisper into the phone as I step into the penthouse living room. I booked the place as soon as I knew we were going to Chicago.

“Hey, man, how’s everything going?” Banner asks.

“Not good,” I answer quietly. “Stage 4 liver cancer. Not sure she’s going to make it.”

He’s silent and then, “Fuck, are you serious?”

“Yeah.” I blow out a heavy breath. “Dude, I don’t know what to fucking do. I can see that Myla is spiraling, and Nichole looks sick. It’s all too fucking much.”

“I’m coming. I’ll book a flight today and be out there so I can help in any way needed.”