Page 518 of End Game

That gets another laugh.

Then we talk through backup insulin.

Not every scenario.

Not every possible emergency.

Just enough.

Where it lives.

What I might ask them to hand me.

When the solution is no longer help Cami troubleshoot and becomes get professional help.

Dex listens more seriously than he jokes, which might be the most alarming symptom in the house.

At some point Griffin says, “Also, I think if she’s ever having a day like she did leading into this with her sugars, maybe she shouldn’t be alone unless she really wants to be.”

I don’t discount the nod to my own autonomy there.

“You’ve all shared a bed with her,” he continues, “this would just be a practical reason to do that.”

Everyone nods.

Griffin leans back. “This is enough.”

The room seems to exhale with me.

Enough.

Nobody needs to become me.

They just need to know enough to help me stay me.

“Can we be done being educational now?” I ask.

“Yes.”

“Thank fuck.” I settle deeper into the couch.

Three whole quiet minutes pass.

Then Griffin ruins everything. “One more thing.”

I drop my forehead against his shoulder.

“This one isn't diabetes.”

“That doesn't improve it.”

His fingers move lightly through the wet ends of my hair. “Holden told me something while you were in the ICU.”

I lift my head. “What?”

“Alexis had medical power-of-attorney paperwork pretty early in their dynamic—with Ethan.”

“I remember her telling me some of that.”