*Oh shit. Hilda, that's nothing. I'm not even working on it anymore.'

*Is that all we are to you? Is that all I am to you? A story?'

*Oh man,' he spluttered, punching himself in the forehead with a closed fist. *I've fucked this up. I always fuck things up. Look, in the beginning, yeah, I thought it would make a cool story. I heard you guys on the balcony-'

*You were spying on us?' I couldn't believe it. All the pieces started to come together. *That's why you were his friend. That's why he said you were asking too many questions. How long have you been writing his story Jake? Without him knowing?'

Jake took a step forward and I held up my hand.

*Don't come near me.'

*I don't understand why you're so angry! You're just as bad.'

*What the hell is that supposed to mean?'

*It means where do you get off judging me? You feed off that old man like a vampire. You think you and I are so different? We're the same Hilda, we take what we need from people and throw them away.'

*I am not like you. I will never be like you.'

*Wise up Hilda. You know I'm right. You're nothing but a bloodsucker, feeding off everyone's misery. You think saving some old guy will bring your parents back? Make everything right again? Gee, wouldn't that be a nice little character arc. But let me tell you something. Life doesn't work that way. It doesn't tie up in a neat little Hollywood certified bow.'

Behind him the nurse was returning, a security guard by her side. Jake followed my gaze and turned around.

*You know what?' he said. *I don't need this.'

*Sir,' the guard said, standing beside him. *I believe this nurse asked you to leave.'

*Don't worry. I'm gone. I am so out of here.'

He brushed past me, stomped down the hallway.

*Jake!' I called out.

He turned. *What?'

*Your writing sucks.'

He took his sunglasses out of his pocket and put them on, kept walking.

*So long Hilda,' he said, and I watched him walk down the corridor. I wanted to chase after him, tell him we had been doing so well-couldn't we go back to before he betrayed me? But I couldn't. I thought of all the conversations Hank and I had had on the balcony and in his living room and couldn't erase from my mind the image of Jake listening from his apartment below. The tape recorder that fell from his bag. All the things he knew that I had never told him, that he'd never given me the chance to. I watched as the hospital doors closed behind him, and then I walked away.

THIRTY-FOUR.

I poked my head inside Hank's room and was struck by the sound of the machines that were keeping him alive, a quiet but insistent whirring, the sound of momentum. It was always good to hear sounds in a hospital room. Silence was a sign of trouble.

Hank was lying in the bed with both wrists bandaged. Someone had given him a sponge bath so he looked pretty good, if a little tired. His grey hair had dried into soft tufts and his beard looked like cottonwool. As I hovered near the door he turned to look at me.

*Am I still here?' he asked.

*Yeah.'

*Shit.'

I walked in and pulled up a chair beside his bed.

*Of all the goddamn luck. I had an out-of-body experience. I was flying high over this bed, looking down at myself. When I tried to fly away, someone told me I wasn't allowed to go yet.'

*That was me,' I smiled.

He grinned. *I thought it was strange that an angel would call me a selfish bastard. Can you get me some water? I feel like I've swallowed a thousand razor blades.'

I poured him a glass and handed it to him. As he raised his hand he winced from the pain.

*So, cutting your wrists huh?' I said. *It's a bit "emo" isn't it?'

*Emo?'

*It's normally teenage girls who cut themselves. If you wanted to go that badly, surely you could have done it in a more manly way. You could have held up a liquor store and waited for the cops to gun you down.'

Hank swallowed the water and tried to put the empty glass on the side table, screwed up his face as he knocked his wrist against the side of the bed.

*Hey, I'll get that,' I said, taking the glass from him. *Just lie down.'

*I don't need any help.'

*They say suicide is a cry for help. People who try to commit suicide, most of them don't really want to die.'

*I do.'

*Why, Hank? What's the story with you? Sometimes I think I have you all figured out, then you do something like this.'

*It's none of your business,' he grumbled. *Can't a man get some peace in here?'

*Did I do something wrong?'

*No, goddamnit. This ain't got nothin' to do with you!'

*But, is there something more I should be doing? Are there things that you want to talk about?'

*I'm sick of talking,' he said, sitting up. *I was fine until you two came along. I just want to be left alone.'

*Well, you won't have to worry about Jake coming around anymore.'

Hank arched an eyebrow. *Whaddaya mean? Did you two have a lovers' tiff or somethin'?'

*Something like that. You were right about him though, I guess. I shouldn't have trusted him.'

*Yeah, well, don't write him off yet. He may be an untrustworthy little bastard, but he likes you.'

*I thought you hated him?'

*I do! Goddamn little son of a bitch, always hanging around, gives me the freakin' creeps. But like I said, he likes you, and soon all the rest of that shit won't matter.'

*I just don't get it, Hank. You've lived through so much, why kill yourself now? It's not like you're gonna be with us much longer, if you know what I mean. Wouldn't you prefer to clock out in your sleep? It's a hell of a lot nicer than bleeding out.'

He grasped my hand, squeezing my fingers together until it hurt. *I can't live with it anymore,' he said. *I can't live with what happened.'

*I understand. You lived through a horrible time-'

*No, you don't understand. I did a terrible thing, Hilda. A terrible, terrible thing.'

*Hank, don't blame yourself for what happened to Lenore,' I said, remembering his story about the girl who perished in the camp. *You were young. It wasn't your fault.'

*Not Lenore. Something else. Something worse.'

Somewhere in the hospital an alarm rang and I heard the frantic rush of footsteps. A few nurses raced past the door but Hank seemed not to notice the commotion.

*You're getting crazy eyes Hank,' I joked. *If you're not careful they'll think you have rabies and put you down.'

He didn't smile. *My heart hurts. I need your help, Hilda.'

*Hank, if I shut off your machine I'm going down for twenty years, and even though life feels pretty shit right now I'd rather not spend it in jail.'

*Not now. Later. It's too risky now.'

*Hank-'

The nurse appeared in the doorway, flustered, a pile of paperwork in her hands. *Oh, you're awake,' she said. *Why didn't anyone tell me you were awake?'

*I wasn't aware it was the job of the visitors to keep the hospital informed of how the patient is doing,' I said.

She smiled grimly. *In any case, visiting hours are over.'

I leant down and whispered in Hank's ear. *What do you want me to do?'

*Wait,' he replied, breathless, his voice like a clockwork toy winding down. *It needs to be done right.'

*But I don't want to do it.'

*Miss,' the nurse said, tapping her clipboard with a pen. *I've asked you once.'

*Fine, fine, I'm going,' I said, but I was grateful to her for giving me an excuse to leave.

*I'll be back, Hank,' I said.

*Don't come back here. I'm gettin' out of this shit-hole as soon as I can.'

I stood outside in the cold night air, looked around for Jake. I waited to hear his voice, see him walking towards me, to tell me he was wrong, that he was sorry for what he had done, that he needed me. But he wasn't there. Maybe he was right. Maybe I was looking for some stupid Hollywood ending, a happiness that didn't really exist.

I saw a payphone on the wall and rustled in my pocket for some change. A man in a wheelchair was smoking a cigarette by the hospital doors, staring up into the night sky. His face was pale, his eyes hollow pits. I picked up the phone and was about to dial when he spoke.

*You see that?' he said, pointing into the sky. I looked around.

*Who, me?'

He laughed. *Yes you. Look at the stars.'

I looked up. The sky was a vast expanse of darkness dotted with lights. *Am I looking for something in particular?' I asked.

The man didn't say anything for a moment, then, as if speaking in a trance, he recited something to me that I was sure he had delivered before, at another time to another person, but the same thing nevertheless.

*It's not just a sky, it's heaven,' he said. *One day we will all be returned to heaven. And in heaven we will be turned into stars. And we will be brighter than anything down here.'

*You enjoying the morphine there good buddy?' I said, but he acted like he hadn't heard. I turned away and dialled the number.

*Hello?' Lynette said, and for a moment I couldn't say anything. It felt as if something was caught in my throat, and as I pushed it out I realised it was a sob.

*Lynette,' I managed.

*Hilda? What's the matter? Where are you?'

*The hospital.'

*Hospital? Oh my God, what's wrong? Are you okay?'

I drew back a breath. *Can you come and get me please?'

I heard the jangle of keys. *I'm on my way.'

I hung up the phone, turned towards the man in the wheelchair, but he was gone. I looked back up at the stars.

THIRTY-FIVE.