Page 54 of Barinov

“Knox thought of another angle and went back downstairs,” she says, her words breaking on a wide yawn. “Can I crash here again?”

I step aside and open the door wider. “Yeah, Hales. Come on in.”

She pads in barefoot and climbs onto the bed, fluffing her pillow and wrapping herself up in the blanket.

I plop down on the edge and rub the back of my neck.

“You okay?” she asks gently, her voice barely audible over the roar of the shower.

I shake my head. “Not really.”

She waits silently and doesn’t push for an explanation.

“I could barely do it,” I whisper. “The sketch. Every time I put down a line, I heard her scream. Heard him—” I cut myself off and try to breathe through it. “It was like my brain couldn’t figure out if I was supposed to draw or throw up. I almost collapsed, Hales. More than once.”

She reaches out from under the blanket and rests her hand over mine, squeezing delicately.

“I got sick after. Twice,” I admit, the sour taste of bile ghosting the back of my throat.

“I’m so sorry, Cade.” Haley swipes at her cheeks, her movements jerky. She lets out a long, shuddering breath. “If this was just the first trial, then what the hell is the rest of it going to be like?”

“Hey,” I blurt out, the muscles in my chest constricting. My stomach coils into a million knots and sends a cold, greasy sensation that tells me I’m about to be sick all over again if we keep down this road.

“Can we just not think about that right now? Talk about something else?”

She nods, her eyes red-rimmed. “Yeah, okay.”

“How’s your Gramps?” I ask, pivoting the conversation as fast as I possibly can.

Her hand flinches in mine, fingers going rigid.

“Haley?”

“He’s fine,” she whispers, but she’s always been a terrible liar. I can feel her sudden, frantic pulse against my thumb.

“Hales.” I squeeze her hand. “Talk to me.”

“It’s okay,” she says, trying to shake it off. “You’ve got enough going on with Bella and the—”

“Just tell me,” I cut in, tipping her chin up to me.

Her eyes meet mine and she nods. “He’s starting to forget me, Cade,” she whispers. “Knox and I went and saw him the other day and he…” A single tear tracks down her cheek. “He looked right through me.”

“I’m so sorry. What’d the doctors say?”

“That this is normal for Alzheimer’s,” she huffs. “But nothing about this is normal. I hate it so much. Gramps practically raised me and I always thought that—” She cuts herself off, clamping her jaw tight.

“Hales?”

“I always thought that one day I’d get to dance with Gramps at my wedding.” She sniffles, another tear falling. “But I guess that’ll never happen.”

“How long did they say?”

“They can’t be certain. But they think less than a few months.”

“I’m so sorry,” I say, wishing that I could find better words.

“Ugh!” she sighs, wiping her face with the back of her hand. “Now I need a change of subject.”