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Reception at UC Medical Center told me Violet was on the fifth floor, neurology, room #504. Miller was already there, sitting against the wall outside her closed door in his usual uniform—worn-out jeans, T-shirt under a plaid flannel, beanie. His guitar case lay across his lap.

Because he ran to her.

“Hey,” I said, hurrying to him. He looked up, his face a mask of tense, tight worry.

“Shi…”

I sank down on the floor beside him, hugged him. “What’s happening?”

“She’s okay. I guess. Her parents don’t like me much. They won’t let me in to see her.”

“Screw them. Violet likes you a lot. That’s all that matters.”

“I guess. But fuck, Shi. They say she lost consciousness. They’re keeping her here overnight.”

“Probably just to be on the safe side.”

A nurse strode by, giving us a perplexed look.

“I talked to

Amber this morning,” I said. “She told me you broke up with her.”

He nodded miserably. “Last week, the morning after Violet came to the Shack. Amber wanted me to give her time before I told Violet. So I did. I waited too damn long. A few days and four years too long.”

“You’re here now.”

“What if I’m too late, Shi?” Miller said, his voice gruff. “What if she gets worse? What if—?”

“You can’t think that way,” I said, even though my own imagination was running away on the same terrifying tangent. “What ifs will drive you crazy.”

He nodded grudgingly, and I rested my chin on my drawn-up knees. A short silence passed and then Miller shook his head, speaking almost to himself.

“Never again. If she’s okay, I’ll never let it get to be too late ever again. Ronan was right.”

I tensed, every part of me at attention. “What was he right about?”

“He said too late is death. I think he was talking about his mom.”

“Yeah? I know that she died when he was little. Both his parents died but he only ever talks about her.”

Miller nodded grimly. “That’s because his dad killed her.”

I stared, the blood draining from my face. “What? He killed… Oh my God.” I clapped a hand to my mouth, my heart beating hard and breaking for Ronan. “How?”

“Don’t know. But I think he saw it happen.”

“He did,” I said, remembering. “He told me he was there. He said he couldn’t save her. Oh my God…”

Miller’s head snapped up, eyes wide at my horrified expression. “Shit, maybe I shouldn’t have told you. He’s a good guy.”

“Of course, he is. Why would you say that?”

“Because he’s my friend and I don’t want you to think badly about him. He’s been a lot happier since you’ve been around.”

“He has?”

“Ronan’s version of happy. But yeah.”

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