Evie’s POV

St. Catherine’s Hospital had a strong smell, one that tried to cover up the scent of death but didn't do a great job. I had walked these white, clinical hallways so many times in the past six months that the nursing staff knew me by name, their sympathetic smiles growing more strained with each visit as Tommy’s condition worsened.

Room 417. The same room they moved him to when it became clear he wasn’t getting better, when doctors began using the word “terminal” in their ...