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“Um, Tilly?”

“Oh, right. I’m sure she’ll be here.” Jules had taken against Tilly ever since the arrest. “If she has to be.”

Sophie started pacing the stage. She couldn’t sing the solo by herself. What was she supposed to do?

She gritted her teeth, annoyance building in her chest. She should have known better than to trust Tilly. So much for them talking after the show. So much for whatever compromise she had thought they might be able to make.

???

Paul Farmer’s body was heavy and she couldn’t move it. The best she could do was drag at his feet to get him vaguely flat as she yelled into her phone to have the ambulance sent.

“Stay with me,” said the responder. “There’s an ambulance on the way.”

Tilly’s heart was pounding in her chest as she ripped Paul’s shirt buttons off, baring his chest. The ambulance might be on its way, but it was going to be too late unless she did something about it.

“Is the patient breathing?” asked the tinny voice from her phone.

“No,” she said, clasping her fingers together.

“Then stay calm. I’m going to lead you through the process of doing CPR,” said the voice, sounding quite bored by the whole ordeal.

But Tilly was already pushing down on Paul’s flabby chest, closing her eyes, bringing her training back. “I’m a police officer,” she shouted at the phone. “I know what I’m doing. Just get me some help.”

She pushed deep into his chest, deeper than she thought she had to. That’s what her instructor had always said. She’d never done this before on a live person and was horrified to hear the crack of ribs breaking. For an instant, she was going to stop.

“Just keep going,” said the phone. “You’re doing a good job. It’s normal to hear those noises. It means you’re doing it right.”

She pushed harder, trying to keep the rhythm, looking around, praying for someone else to come, someone else to help take the responsibility off her shoulders. She could feel tears in her eyes, could feel panic wanting to come.

“You’re doing fine,” said the phone. “Let me count you through it. Come on, we’ll do this together. One and two and three. One and two and three.”

Tilly clung to the voice on the other end of the phone as her arms started to ache.

???

“This is ridiculous,” Sophie muttered.

“She’ll be here,” said Jules, who was busy painting some lipstick on.

“Warm up in ten minutes,” Billy called, clapping her hands.

Sophie snorted in annoyance and, turning on her heel, walked out of the little practice room behind the stage.

She had to come; she had to be here. She wouldn’t leave her to do this alone, would she? Not after everything that they’d been through. She had to know that if she didn’t show up, then… then there’d be nothing left. No trust. No connection. No hope.

Sophie went around the stage, coming out into the tiny hall and pushing through the people there to get outside.

What had she been expecting?

She hadn’t let herself think about it, she hadn’t let herself hope. But now that Tilly wasn’t there, she realized that she’d been expecting her happy ending. That as much as she knew this couldn’t work, as angry as she’d been at Tilly, as much as herfather had been furious, she’d still, deep in her heart, thought that there could be a happy ending.

“There still can,” she whispered to herself. But only if Tilly showed up.

All of it was ridiculous, she could see that now. Could see, now that Tilly wasn’t here, that her life without Tilly in it simply wasn’t as good. She missed her, which sounded pathetic, but it was true.

“Sophie!”

She turned and something small and fast crashed into her legs.