I nodded.
“Thank you.”
I went to see my friend, but I barely remember the conversation. Mark was propped against pillows, pale but alert after surgery, and he noticed immediately that something was wrong.
“Man,” he said, narrowing his eyes, “you look worse than I do.”
I tried to smile.
It didn’t work.
“I saw Sophie.”
Mark’s expression softened. “Here?”
I nodded.
“In a patient gown.”
He was quiet for a moment.
Then he said, “You didn’t know?”
The room seemed to shrink.
I stared at him.
“What?”
Mark closed his eyes briefly. “Ethan…”
“You knew?”
His silence answered for him.
I stepped back from the bed.
“You knew Sophie was sick?”
“Not everything,” he said quickly. “Not details. Just that she’d been havingtests.”
“And you didn’t tell me?”
“She asked me not to.”
The betrayal was different this time, but it still hurt.
