Only Gia had kept her promise. Madison had symbolically burned her bracelet after The Incident with Raoul while Shelley had flung hers into the ocean.
Their sisterhood irrevocably broken.
Except on Gia’s wrist.
Gia gulped. Regret tasted like burnt pennies in her mouth, and her throat clotted thick with the salty taste of grief. Was she the lone idiot for holding on to her bracelet? Or was she, like Grammy claimed in her letter, the only one who could rebuild what they’d lost?
Peacemaker.
Guilty as charged, but not happy about it. She’d much rather be a warrior like Madison or a swashbuckler like Shelley. Peacemaker. Boring as white cotton panties.
Madison’s gaze tracked Gia’s movements to her wrist, but her expression didn’t change. Did she remember the significance of the bracelet? “Have you heard from Shelley?”
Shelley.
The name fell from Madison’s lips like hailstones pinging the earth.
That pissed Gia off. She wasn’t quick to anger, but dammit, Grammy was in surgery for brain cancer and Maddie still clung to that stupid grudge.
Get out the slingshot, Davida. Find some rocks. Time to shine.
“We need to talk—”
Madison held up a palm. “Not here. Not now.”
Gia gritted her teeth. Her sister’s anger was justified. Shelley had screwed her over. But five freaking years had passed. Maddie lived an amazing life because of what Shelley had done. It was time she got over herself.
But telling off her big sister wasn’t easy. “I haven’t heard from Shell,” Gia murmured.
“Typical,” Maddie muttered.
“You’ve got to stop—”
Again, with the damn stop sign palm, Madison silenced Gia before she got started. Gia curled her hands into fists.
Maddie closed her eyes, rubbed her temple. Her skin blanched white.
“Do you have a migraine?” Gia asked.
Madison opened her eyes and nodded. “Travel . . . stress . . .”
“C’mon, sit down.” Sympathetic, she took Madison’s hand and guided her to the chair Gia had vacated. “I’ll fetch coffee and aspirin.”
For the first time since coming into the waiting room, Madison smiled. Worn and wan, but the smile counted. “How did you know?”
“You carry all your tension in your head. You always have. Me? I’m a gut girl. Tummy aches.” Like the one she had now. Gia rummaged in her purse, found the packet of aspirins she carried with her—never knew when she’d find someone in need—and passed the pills to her sister. “You think too much.”
“Curse of the oldest.”
Gia turned to Darynda. “Would you like coffee?”
“If I drink coffee this late, I can’t sleep a wink.” Darynda shook her head and sank down on the couch where she’d been sitting before she’d gone outside to stretch her legs. “Not that I imagine I’ll get much sleep tonight.” She took material from her tote bag and started hand sewing a quilt square.
Gia went to the coffee station in the corner of the waiting room and poured coffee for them both. Black for Maddie, creamy and sweet for herself.
“Thanks.” Madison took the coffee and Gia sat beside her and for a moment, things were nice.
Sighing out loud, Madison cradled the paper cup in her hands, leaned her head against the wall, and shut her eyes.
Maddie was such a force of nature when she was in motion, but resting, she looked utterly worn out. Her face was far too pale and there were long-standing dark shadows beneath her eyes.
This was more than just Grammy. Something else ate at her oldest sister and had for some time.
Gia’s heart lurched. She hadn’t seen Madison since Christmas. They had exchanged polite chitchat and token gifts but shared nothing deep. Nothing meaningful. And they had said absolutely nothing about Shelley. Their middle sister’s absence was the invisible elephant in the room, unseen but there all the same.
When they were children, she and Madison often teamed up against Shelley. Gia had adored her oldest sister. Not that she didn’t adore Shelley as well, but Shelley was closer in age. That closeness created squabbles and sibling rivalry.
Madison and Gia never had a fight. That is until The Incident with Raoul and the wedding gone awry.
RIP, sisterhood.
Gia fiddled with her bracelet and wished for a fidget spinner.
A door leading to the surgical suite opened. Every head in the waiting area swiveled in that direction and people sat up straighter in their chairs.
A weary-looking woman in scrubs, lab coat, surgical cap, and mask dangling around her neck shambled into the waiting area, paper shoe covers on her feet. “Chapman family?”
Simultaneously, Madison, Gia, and Darynda jumped to their feet. Madison squared her shoulders. Darynda dropped the quilt square into her tote bag. Gia interlaced her fingers and clasped her hands over her heart.
“Please, follow me into the conference room.” The woman nodded.
Darynda plunked back down.
“What are you doing?” Madison asked.
“You girls go on. I’m not fami—”
Gia reached for her hand. “C’mon, Darynda, you are family.”
A hopeful smile twitched at Darynda’s mouth. Her lips were lined in mauve pencil, but she’d chewed off the top layer of her lipstick. She shot an uncertain glance at Madison.
With a half-hearted lift of one shoulder and a brief nod, Madison turned and followed the doctor into a small room with two couches, a coffee table, and several boxes of tissues.
Darynda picked up her tote, clutching it with both hands as if it were her lifeline. Gia settled an arm around Darynda’s shoulder and guided her after Madison.
“Please have a seat.” Looking somber, the woman directed them to the couches.
They settled in.
Madison was on the corner closest to the coffee table where the doctor perched, her knees cocked as if ready to run for an emergency at a moment’s notice. Gia sat beside her sister. Hesitating, Darynda slid down next to Gia.
“I’m Dr. Hollingway. Your grandmother’s neurosurgeon.” She shook their hands, and they all murmured hellos and nice-to-meet-yous, which seemed both silly and inadequate in the context—civil, polite, and utterly worthless. Then the doctor launched into the details of the nine-hour surgery.
Gia fixated on Dr. Hollingway’s feet, noticed specks of blood on her shoe covers and the hem of her scrubs. Grammy’s blood? Her gut reeled, and she wished she hadn’t drunk that coffee without something in her stomach.
The doctor crossed her legs. “Your grandmother is a fighter. Her resilience will go a long way in her recovery.”
Darynda made a small sound, a tiny, tight eep like a hiccup. Gia reached over to take her hand and Darynda clung to her like a tether.
Dr. Hollingway cleared her throat. She directed her gaze straight at Madison.
“Yes?” Maddie’s voice sounded strong, but Gia could detect a faint tremor. Madison fiddled with the crystal necklace at her throat, rubbing it like a talisman.
“I was able to resect the entire tumor.”
“That’s good news, right?”
“It is excellent news. But—”
“But what?”
Gia wanted to yell at Madison and tell her if she’d just shut up for half a second, and let the doctor finish, they’d find out faster.