What’s Jack doing on his day off?” Dawn asked.

Addy dumped the tray of dirty dishes in the sink and wiped her brow.

“Shopping for some kind of jet ski thing,” she said. “And you know what that means. The next time we both have a day off, he’s going to drag me off on that death trap.”

“You don’t know how lucky you are,” Dawn said. “I’m lucky to get a night out that’s more exciting than a movie and dinner at Dusty’s.”

Addy laughed. “Maybe you’re right.”

“Addy?” The girl who’d just come on for the lunch shift stuck her head in back. “There’s a call for you. It’s… it’s the hospital?”

“The hospital? But Jack’s not there …” Addy headed to the cash register and picked up the landline, confused. “Jack? What are you doing at work?”

“Addison Fuller?” the woman asked. She didn’t recognize the voice.

“Yes, that’s me. Is Jack okay? What’s—”

“Is Theodore Fuller your father?”

“Yes.” Her blood turned to ice. Of course it was Dad. Of course. “What happened?”

“He came to the ER in an ambulance and has been moved to the ICU.”

“Is he okay? He’s in the ICU, so that means he’s okay, right?” Addy whipped off her apron even as she spoke.

“Your father has cardiomyopathy.”

“What… what is that? Like a heart attack?”

“It’s when the heart becomes enlarged, and… are you able to come in right now? I can’t tell you much over the phone, it’s best you talk to a doctor.”

“Yeah, yes, I’m coming,” she said and slammed down the phone.

“Everything okay?” Dawn asked. Addy jumped at the voice.

“No, my dad—he’s in the hospital. Can you cover for me?”

“Sure, yeah,” Dawn said. “Go, we’ve got this.”

Addy pulled out her phone as she ran toward the car. Briefly, she paused, not knowing who to call first.

Jack or Kenzie? But when she opened her call app, it was Jack’s name she tapped.

“Hey!” he said. “I’m glad you called. I can’t decide between the Ski-Doo—”

“Where are you? Are you in town?”

“Yeah, some place on Pine. Are you okay? What happened?”

“My dad’s in the ICU.”

“I’m on my way. Are you driving there? Do I need to pick you up?”

“I’m driving, I’m leaving the restaurant now.”

“Did they say what it was?”

“Cardio—something. I can’t remember.”

“I’ll meet you there.”

Addy flipped the phone to speaker mode and dialed Kenzie.

“Addy, you better have a really good reason for waking me up,” Kenzie said, groggy. “I have the whole day off and I’m not—”

“Dad’s in the hospital.”

“What?” The sleep disappeared from Kenzie’s voice.

“Where were you?”

“Where was I?”

“Kenzie, goddamnit! He took an ambulance to the ER, where were you?”

“I… hold on,” she said with a whisper. “I’m at a friend’s place. Hey,” Kenzie whispered to someone. “What’s the address of this place?”

Addy could hear a deep male voice reply.

“Kenzie! How long will it take you to get to the hospital?”

“I, um. I think my car’s here. What! We’re in Indian Hills? Addy, it’ll take… a little while. I’m leaving now.”

Addy hung up before she could say anything more. Or burst into tears. Whatever came first.

How many nights was Kenzie hooking up with random guys and leaving Dad alone?

She never should have moved out. That was obvious. Now look at what had happened. And she couldn’t even blame Kenzie, since her sister had never had a speck of responsibility.

It was on her. Whatever happened to her dad, it was all her fault.

Jack was already there when she pulled up to the hospital. He paced in front of the doors.

“Jack! Did you see him? Check on him? Is he—”

“I did, briefly. He’s asleep right now, but stable.”

“Can I see him?”

“They’re not letting anybody see him right now.”

“But you’re a doctor here! Can’t you—”

“I don’t make the rules, though,” he said. “Come with me, we’ll talk to the doctor who’s been handling the case since he was transferred to ICU.”

He grabbed her hand and led her into the brightly lit hospital.

“But can’t you be his doctor? Can’t you—”

“One thing at a time, Addy,” he said. He sounded so confident, so sure, that it made her fall quiet.

“Addison Fuller?” the doctor asked.

She’d never seen him before, but his age and stature were soothing. He must have been in his fifties and his white coat fell almost to his knees. Thanks to Jack, she knew that the longer the white coat, the more experienced the doctor.

“Yeah, that’s me,” she said. She didn’t even bother to correct the surname.

“Your father had cardiomyopathy. It’s when the heart gets bigger and thicker, and in turn weaker. It’s often worsened by excessive alcohol use, although age and genetics are usually the primary cause. Your father’s blood alcohol level was almost three times the legal limit when he was admitted. It’s… quite shocking, really, that he was even conscious let alone had the wherewithal to call an ambulance.”

“Jesus,” Addy said.

She faltered, and Jack caught her elbow to lower her into one of the chairs in the waiting room. Vaguely, Addy was aware of all the people around her. Some stared at her, while others were wrapped up in their own pains and traumas.

“Miss Fuller? Are you alright?” the doctor asked.

“Yeah, sorry.”

“Does your father have a history of alcohol abuse?”

“Yes,” she said meekly, embarrassed.

“We also tested his liver, given the BAC levels and cardiomyopathy, and it looks like your father is in the middle stages of alcoholic liver disease. Not all alcoholics develop this,” he continued.

Addy flushed at the word “alcoholic.” It sounded like it rang out through the waiting room.

“However, it’s more common in those who also have poor nutrition. Miss Fuller, I have to tell you, your father is on the border of developing liver cirrhosis.”

“What… what does that mean?” She was aware of Jack’s hand wrapped around hers, but the comfort it offered was minimal.

“Well, up until cirrhosis, the liver is able to repair itself. In early stages the symptoms are barely noticeable, if at all. Unfortunately, this means that the liver can become damaged beyond repair before the patient is aware of the problem.”

“But you said he’s borderline. So it can be fixed, right? His liver can still fix itself?”

“Anything is possible,” the doctor said. “But in my opinion, I don’t think that’s likely. I believe this event might have pushed him over the edge and when we retest I foresee him to be in full cirrhosis.”

“No,” Addy said as she shook her head. “No.”

“Also, we tested his gamma-glutamyl transpeptidase, or GGT, which is an enzyme linked to the liver. His levels are extremely high, which is another sign of toxic alcohol levels as well as cholestatic damage.”

“I don’t know what all that means,” Addy said.

“It furthers my diagnosis that I believe your father is moving swiftly into late stage liver damage coupled with cardiomyopathy that can lead to a heart attack at any moment.”

“How… how could I not know?” she asked. “He seemed fine, just the other day…”

“It’s not your fault,” Jack said.

The doctor flipped through his notes. “It says here in his charts that Mr. Fuller was here two days ago complaining of chest pains. And that you saw him, Dr. Stratton.”

The doctor looked at Jack curiously.

“What?” Addy dropped his hand and turned to Jack. “Is this true?”

“Addy, I—”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Your father asked me not to, and I—I couldn’t, Addy. Legally.”

“So, what, you just sent him on his merry way? He’s dying, Jack! And he was here asking for your help, what, two days ago? This is your fault!” she screamed, and in the darkest corner of her heart she believed it.

“Addy, his blood work came back fine—”

“Yeah, well, apparently you weren’t supposed to be testing his fucking blood, Jack! It was his liver. This doctor figured it out.”

“Addy! Jack! Oh my God, is everything okay? Where is he?” Kenzie came barreling down the hall in a barely-there minidress, barefoot with heels in her hands and last night’s makeup streaked across her face.

“No, it’s not!” Addy yelled.

“What—”

“You deal with this,” she said, and shoved the printouts the doctor had given her into Kenzie’s hands. “Both of you, you fucking deal with this for once.”

“Addy—” Jack started, but she was already half-running down the hall.

“What happened?” she could hear Kenzie call.

“Addy!” Jack caught up to her outside. She wasn’t aware there were tears that poured down her face until he grabbed her elbow and spun her around. “Calm down! I know you’re upset, but—”

“Calm down? Don’t tell me to calm down! That’s my dad, Jack! And I left him, I… I fucking moved out and stopped taking care of him so I could play house with you. How ridiculous is that?”

“This isn’t my fault—”

“Then whose fault is it, Jack?”

He opened his mouth, but she held up her hand.

“Don’t you dare say it’s mine.”

Jack took a deep breath. “Addy, you stay here.”

“What?”

“You stay. Go talk to Kenzie. I’ll leave.”

“Where are you go—”

“Stay with your family. I’ll leave,” he repeated.

Before she could ask anything else, he turned on his heels and walked into the parking lot.

“Addy! What happened?” Kenzie was at her side and pulled at her arm. “Is Dad okay? Did I do this?”

Addy sucked in her breath.

“It’s not your fault,” she told Kenzie halfheartedly. She wrapped an arm around her sister and escorted her back inside.

A voice deep inside her already mourned what she’d done to Jack.

Fuck, she thought, there’s no way he’s coming back now.