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This is the moment I’ve been waiting for. All I have to say are two words, but my throat closes up, and I start to cry too. I can’t speak. Instead, I shake my head. It’s the fear we always dreaded, the unspeakable possibility of me dying.

She turns away from me, covering her face with her hands. Her sobs fill the room and tear through me like a knife.

She knows.

I hop off the bed and touch her arm. “I’m so sorry, Annie. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“How could you not tell me!” She’s a volcano of rage and a puddle of sadness all at the same time. She faces me again, shaking. “We tell each other everything.”

My lip wobbles. “I already hurt you enough with Daniel. I wanted to help you, but I made it worse. And I feel really guilty.”

She blinks back tears. “I don’t care about what happened with Daniel right now. I care about you!”

“But you should hate me.”

She leaps forward, latching on to me and hugging me close like I’m about to dissolve into thin air if she doesn’t. My heart leaps when she wraps her arms around me. I feel whole again.

“Don’t say that.”

“But it’s true.”

She shakes her head again. Her cries bubble out. “You can’t leave me, Margo.”

I know.

But I don’t have a choice.

I hold her close. “I missed you.”

That only makesher cry harder.

Annie took me home.

I wasn’t about to call Mama because I didn’t know how long she’d be at Mrs. Jackman’s. We called Papa instead to get permission to leave school early. Our drive home was quiet. There was no music. No talking.

We pull into the driveway and sit there. Neither one of us is ready to move. It might only be nine o’clock in the morning, but I think we’re both exhausted. Even though Annie says she’s not upset about the whole Daniel thing, I find it hard to believe. I think there’s unresolved tension, but she’s afraid to say anything.

“How are you feeling now?” she whispers.

My nose isn’t bleeding anymore, but my head hurts and my outfit is trashed. “I’m okay.”

She nods, still not moving. She blankly stares at our garage. “Do you really like him?”

There’s no point in hiding anything. She deserves to know it all. “I couldn’t stand him at first. He made my blood boil.”

There’s the faintest laugh from the driver’s seat.

“But he’s easy to talk to, and when I’m with him, I feel normal. He makes me feel like a normal teenager.”

Annie rests her head back on the seat and looks over. “Tell me about him.”

I fidget with my hands. I’ve wanted to talk to her about him in the way sisters talk about their crushes for so long, but I’m nervous. I don’t want to make her more upset. “He likes cats, he writes in books instead of reading them, and he has a crooked smile.”

She cringes. “Everyone knows dogs are better, writing in books is practically criminal, and has he considered braces?”

I smile. “Really?”

“Tell me more. Ruin the illusion. I’m ready,” she says, relaxing into her seat.