Page 132

Signy didn’t miss a beat. There were many options when dealing with a disoriented hospice patient, but only one of them was kind. “He’ll be home tomorrow,” she said. “He misses you, too.”

There was a slight knock on the open door. Nurse Arlo stepped in. “How are we doing, Otto?” they said, heading for the monitors set up near the bed.

“Been better,” Otto breathed.

Arlo patted Otto’s shoulder and looked over his vitals. They unbuttoned Otto’s striped pajama shirt, took out their stethoscope, and pressed the metal disk to his chest, here and there.

Signy watched the nurse’s face closely, looking for any sign that maybe this was just a terrible mistake.

Arlo nodded to themself, unsurprised by whatever they’d heard. “Are you comfortable?” they asked. It was all they needed to say to answer Signy’s question.

“Oh, sure, sure,” Otto replied. His eyelids flickered; he was having trouble focusing.

Signy set the binoculars in her lap and put her hand on Otto’s forearm. “Otto, you need to tell us if there’s something you need,” she said. “Or anything you want. Anything.”

“I’m fine,” he insisted, closing his eyes. His chest continued to rise and fall, despite the damage within. A smattering of bruises decorated his chest, left behind by equipment at the hospital. The shadows of tools that had been tried.

Arlo rebuttoned Otto’s shirt, then unclipped their tablet from their belt holster, tapping data into a medical chart. They were quiet for a long moment. They looked like they were weighing something.

Signy didn’t pay the nurse’s silence much attention. She was too caught up in watching Otto breathe.

“Ah, Signy?” Arlo said at last. They cleared their throat and angled their head toward the hallway. “Could I talk to you for a minute?”

“Oh. Sure.” She put the binoculars on the windowsill and switched the radio on as she left the room. Ambient Afternoons on K-BTH. It wasn’t enough to drown out the sound of Ramona’s plastic printer working overtime in the neighboring room, but it would do.

Sam was running errands and Darcy was downstairs doing laundry, so the living room was free. Arlo didn’t sit, though, despite the couches at their disposal. They crossed their arms, looking at Signy seriously. “Okay,” they said. “How about we cut the bullshit?”

Signy raised her eyebrows. “I wasn’t aware of there being any bullshit to cut.”

Arlo fixed her in their gaze. “I know you’re the one who supplies him with blood pressure meds. There’s no way he could’ve turned around like he did on diet and exercise alone, especially with as messed up as his knee is.”

Signy didn’t react. She was too tired to feel anything other than Oh, sure, this might as well be happening, too. “And why are we discussing this now?” she asked.

Arlo let out a regretful breath. “Because somebody at the hospital caught it.” They held out their tablet and scrolled through Otto’s file, stopping at a block of red highlighting. A flag to investigate further. “My guess is he’d recently taken some before he came in, and their tests are a lot more comprehensive than the ones I give him, and he doesn’t have a prescription for this, so . . . yeah.”

Too many thoughts. Too many feelings. Too many variables. One thought, though, leaped ahead of the rest. “Tell me it wasn’t—”

Arlo shook their head hard, understanding. “No, no, no—not a medication reaction. It wasn’t anything you gave him. This was just . . . one of those things. Hearts do this, when they get old. You kept his going for longer than it would have otherwise.”

Signy exhaled every breath she’d ever taken. “All right.” The rest of her thoughts scrambled to catch up, tripping over one another in a jumbled heap. “Okay. Um—”

“Signy,” Arlo said in a voice accustomed to giving difficult people gentle commands. They pointed again at the red block. “This was flagged last night. I would bet good money it’s already being chased down. Someone is picking this apart as we are talking, right now. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“I’m . . .” Signy looked at the wall, blinking. “I’m not stupid.”

Arlo continued, undeterred. “I’m sure you’ve done a good job covering your tracks, but you will not be hard to find. You’re in his home right now. You own a shop across the street. I could get in a world of shit for giving you a heads-up, but—” They shook their head, running their tongue over their teeth. “I don’t know how you get what you get, but—”

“I make it,” Signy said, immediately wondering why she’d felt that was necessary to add.

Arlo stared at her. “You need to shut it down. Now. Get rid of whatever setup you’ve got, and shut it down.”

The words left Signy’s mouth before Arlo’s instructions fully sank in. “I can’t do that,” she said sharply. “I—I can’t do that. Do you think it’s only him?”

“‘Only him’ what?”

Faces started to race through Signy’s mind. Doodles of flowers and leaves in her notebook. Olive needed their skin to stop itching. Evie needed her thyroid to stop eating itself. Allie needed to not have migraines. Paul needed to be able to get out of bed. “Do you think it’s only him that I take care of?”

Arlo shook their head. “Well, no, but—”