Suddenly, the world was too big and ugly, and I was too small and frail.

I think I gave up on him that day.

Remembering it all, almost two decades later, drained me. A pain shot through my neck, and the muscles in my shoulders tensed to the point of cramping.

I leaned on the bed, my head cradled in folded arms, and lay next to my brother's lifeless hand, lost in the stillness.

I almost shrieked when I sensed a movement and heard someone say softly, "Kris."

I sat up and blinked at the sight of my lover standing in the shadow of the doorway, the faint light shimmering off her blonde hair.

Destiny gave me a slight wave. "Hi, honey."

"How did you know I was here?"

"I took a guess after I woke up and you were gone." She scooted a chair next to mine, perched on the edge of it, and put her arm around my shoulders. She pointed to the container below the window. "What are those?"

"Cashews. He loves them. Maybe he'll smell them and wake up. If not, I'll give them to the nurses," I said, numb.

She shot me a look of concern. "Are you all right?"

"I guess."

"You couldn't sleep?"

I shook my head.

"You should have woke me."

"I couldn't," I said simply. "I thought I'd come by and read David some mysteries, but I only managed to get through one."

"Do you want me to read?"

"No, thanks. I think I want to sit here and rest awhile."

"Okay if I stay with you?"

"Sure," I said half-heartedly.

After a few minutes, Destiny broke the aching silence. "What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing."

"Okay," she said, hurt.

"High school," I said after a short pause. "David's hormones kicked in, and the doctors couldn't control his seizures. They medicated him so much, he became a zombie. He fell asleep all the time, even in class, and when he was awake, he was seizing. David had so many seizures while he ran to catch the bus that my mom asked me to start picking him up from school."

"Why didn't she do it?"

"Who knows? I can't remember her excuse, but I said I would. I was about twenty years old, living in my own apartment, but I had a job near the school. I agreed to take a late lunch every day and drive him home. I'll never forget the first day I went to get him."

I paused and rubbed my head. "He wasn't where I told him to meet me, and it took me an hour to find hima"in the nurse's office. He'd had a seizure in one of the crowded hallways, in front of a bunch of kids."

My lower lip started quivering. Destiny pulled me closer but didn't say anything.

"All the way home, I wanted to cry, but I couldn't. David was still out of it, unfocused. When we got to my mom's, I helped him change out of his pantsa"he'd peed in them during the seizurea"then I went back to work."

I let out a deep breath. "Years later, I wondered why my mom wasn't there, why she didn't help David when he needed it, but you know what I thought about that day?"

Destiny shook her head, her eyes a pool of sadness, and reached to stroke my hair.

That gentle motion, the tenderness that came naturally to her, made me explode with grief.

I started sobbing and could barely talk. "I felt like a hero and a fake," I said between gut-wrenching cries. "For doing so much ... and so little."

Destiny drew me into her body and kissed my cheek. "You've done enough, Kris," she whispered. "More than most people would have or could have."

I looked up but couldn't speak.

She brushed hair back from my eyes. "Now let's go home so I can hold you while you sleep."

On wobbly legs, I stood up and walked out of David's room, my hand in Destiny's.

I spent most of the next day, Saturday, in bed.

I tried to convince myself I was catching a cold and needed to rest, but truthfully, I felt depressed.

Sunday morning, a phone call from Patrice roused me.

She began enigmatically. "I found out something yesterday I think you need to know. I'm not sure it has anything to do with Lauren's death, and I probably shouldn't be telling you this ..."

"Yes?" I prompted, stifling a massive yawn.

"Maybe it's nothing, but it feels important. No, never mind. I shouldn't have bothered you on the weekend."

"At this point, anything would help," I said dully. "I'm not really getting anywhere."

"But this may not relate."

"Patrice, what?" I practically barked.

Stunned by my change in tone, she answered immediately. "I think Nicole's having an affair."

I frowned. "Lauren's gone. I agree it might be a little soon, but there's nothing wrong with Nicole dating."

"There is if she started last year," she said righteously.

I riveted my attention. "What are you talking about?"

"I don't have much to go on, but last spring, while Lauren was babysitting Ashley, Stephen and I ran into Nicole and another woman at the movies. At first, I didn't think much of it. Nicole seemed awkward, as if she wished she hadn't run into us, but she introduced us to the other woman. She called her a friend from work."

Patrice's pace quickened. "When we got back to the house, Lauren mentioned in passing that Nicole had been working a lot of overtime, including that night. This was before we had a chance to tell her we'd bumped into Nicole, so of course, I didn't say a word. I felt terrible about it, but I didn't know what else to do.

"After Lauren left, I started remembering little things. Like how Nicole's cheeks were red, how she seemed happier than when I saw her with Lauren, and how the other woman looked at Nicole when she talked. Stuff like that."

"But you never said anything to Lauren about any of this?" I probed.

"No. I considered telling her, but Stephen said I shouldn't interfere. Plus, I didn't have much to go on, and I didn't want to cause trouble. I guess that's why I never brought it up."

"Why didn't you tell me about this when I asked you if Lauren and Nicole were getting along?"

"I honestly forgot," she said guardedly. "Right after it happened, I thought about it a lot, but it sort of faded, until yesterday anyway."

My interest piqued. "What happened?"

"I saw the two of them at Cherry Creek Mall, but they didn't see me. I was in the dressing room at Foley's, trying on shorts when I heard Nicole in the next stall. I started to go over and say hi, but then I heard another woman's voice. The two of them were trying on bathing suits, and from what I could tell, they'd done this before."

"Done what?"

"It was pretty clear they were more than friends," she said, her words caked in indignation.

"And you recognized this woman from her voice."

"No, her eyes. Nicole left to go to another department, and this woman came out to look at herself in the full-length mirror outside my door. The door was the kind with slats you can see out of, but people can't see in. I got a good look at her."

"And you remembered her eyes, even though you only met once?" I asked, skeptical.

"You would have, too," she said adamantly. "One's blue and the other's green."

Barely able to see through my anger, I dressed and drove straight to Nicole's house.

I'd had plenty of time to study the blue and green eyes of Paige Werner, Nicole's assistant, thanks to my hour-long wait for Nicole.

I rang the doorbell but didn't bother to wait for an answer. I stomped around to the backyard, lifted myself up on the fence, and yelled at a stunned Nicole to meet me out front.

Having covered her skimpy pink two-piece bathing suit with a sleeveless denim shirt, Nicole had regained full composure by the time we met at the front door. I couldn't decide whether I hated her more for her abrasive personality or for her wiry, tanned legs.

I bellowed through the bars of the security door. "We need to talk."

She pinched her lips. "I doubt that."

"Are you going to let me in?"

"I'd rather not," she said, drawing the sides of the unbuttoned shirt tighter.

"Fine, we'll do it here."

"Why don't you give it up?" she said, irked.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" I sneered.

"Yes, but what's that supposed to mean?"

"You already have your answer, don't you? You know why Lauren committed suicide, but you couldn't bother to share it with the rest of us."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she said, genuinely perplexed.

"C'mon, Nicole, give it up. From the beginning, you were against Patrice hiring me. You thought it was a dumb idea. The only reason you agreed to talk was to salve your guilty conscience. You never really cared why Lauren killed herself. The only thing that interested you was knowing whether she had caught you."

"Excuse me?"

"You werea"or area"having an affair with Paige Werner. Funny how Lauren wrote all the dates of your business trips in her appointment book when you told me you never travel on business."

Nicole blanched, but I didn't relent. "All those mysterious four-and five-day trips you took to another woman's bedroom. Maybe you keep tolerating me because you want to know if Lauren suspected or knew, and if that might have led to her death."

"I take great offense at what you're saying," she said coldly.

"I take equal offense at your lack of morals."

She feigned boredom. "I assumed you'd get around to finding out about Paige. Who told you?"

I shrugged my shoulders.

"Perfect Cecelia, the ex-love of Lauren's life, right?"

I forced my facial muscles to remain passive.

She glared at me, her eyes burning into my smooth forehead. "Whatever. My relationship with Paige, or with Lauren, or with any other woman, is none of your goddamn business. I've tried to be patient while you ran around making a big show of trying to know something about my lover. But what right do you have to know why she killed herself?"

"None, but Patrice does."

"The hell she does," she spit.

"She's her sister."

"And I was her lover, her life partner, her best friend," she said between clenched teeth. "But what did that matter? You can't possibly know what it's like to deal with a suicide. Now get the hell off my porch."

I caught my breath and checked my temper. When I spoke, it was in a lifeless monotone. "You think I have no idea what it's like? You don't know a thing about my life. My brother is in a coma at Denver Health. He's there because he tried to kill himself. Don't you dare tell me what I know and don't know. You should thank God every day Lauren escaped this world. At least if she didn't want to live, she was able to die. She's not trapped in some unreal, inhumane place in between."

I trembled so hard, I didn't have the energy to protest when Nicole opened the door and guided me inside the house, to a bench in the foyer. She stood uncertainly five feet away.

I sat for a few minutes, silent, eyes dry and cast downward, shaking my hands, trying to regain control.

Nicole spoke first, almost gingerly. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to live with someone who has checked out, who doesn't care anymore?"

I couldn't look up. "You mean right before she died."

"No, years ago. There's always been a part of Lauren that was dead. I knew it the first time we made love, but after Ashley was diagnosed with spinal meningitis, Lauren withdrew from the world. She took it harder than Patrice and Stephen. I tried to reach her, to console her, but she shut me out. After that, all she cared about was making money and being with her niece."