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“I love you, too.” Evie’s voice trembled. She fought the rise of prickly tears as her parents stepped away and the bed began moving, curving toward the hall and the short journey to the operating room. Please bring me back to them. Craning her neck, she locked eyes with her parents until their loving faces vanished and she was alone, passing scuffed walls, locked custodial rooms, and tall metal shelving jammed with bedpans.

God, please let me get through this. Let me see Nick soon.

“But she’s my sister—!”

“Sam?!” Evie’s heart leapt into her throat. “Wait!” Waving her hand, she threw a pleading look over her shoulder. “Please, can we stop?”

“You’ll have to be quick,” said the aide.

She nodded as the bed slowed. “I will! Thank you.”

“Sprout!” Perspiration glinting on his forehead, Sam broke into a relieved grin. “Oh god.” He bent over the bed’s railing. “I thought I’d missed you.”

Evie burst into tears, the emotion of the last twenty-four hours catching up to her. “I’m SO glad you’re here!” She threw her IV-free arm around his neck and hugged him.

Sam let out a shaky breath into her shoulder, holding her tightly. “Where else would I be, silly…” When he pulled back, his watery eyes met Evie’s with a caring smile. “Come on—no more tears. You’re gonna be fine. And when you wake up, my ugly mug will be the first thing you’ll see, okay?”

Evie laughed, blinking through her tears. “Promise?”

“Cross my heart. I’ve got your back, Sprout.”

THIRTY

EVIE

Now, Friday, August 11

With the thirty-nine filming days in Orkney complete and added to the four months spent earlier in the year on a London soundstage, the Tomlinson shoot was finally in the can. To celebrate, extras, cast, and crew convened in a renovated 19th-century herring storehouse for the production’s wrap party. After cooking and catering seventy-eight servings over seven weeks, Evie was more than ready to tear off her net and let her hair down, both literally and figuratively.

Shame her health issues were crashing the party.

A mild fever combined with abdominal discomfort, a dwindling appetite, and the odd dash to the washroom meant she didn’t need a doctor’s appointment to know she was flaring. Her specialist recommended she stay home and rest, but Evie was having none of it. She had earned this night out, and no amount of fatigue or cramps would steal the occasion away.

Stood in front of a gold sequin curtain in her daisy dress, she adjusted the plastic Viking helmet on her head and foisted a stick topped with red lips in front of her mouth as a passing Rupert hollered, “Say Orkney cheddar!”

“Orkney cheddar!” Evie parroted along with Sunita and Jamie, their silly poses in the open-air photo booth inciting another round of belly-busting laughter.

She looked at her catering team: her double-denim-wearing cousin hidden beneath his ever-present Yankees cap and a pair of star-shaped sunglasses (which kept slipping down his nose), and Sunita, shoulders back and chest out in her electric blue bodycon dress, rocking a pair of rabbit ears and holding some sort of sign. Pride swelled in Evie’s heart. For three amateurs, we catered the hell out of this shoot.

“NEXT!” The photo concierge waved them away as Tarquin, dressed all in black and reliving his teenage dream as DJ Klimaxx on the far side of the restaurant, mixed into a pounding dance track. The music vibrated inside Evie’s chest and assaulted her ears.

“God, it’s so LOUD.” She returned the lips and Viking helmet to the props table.

“I was gonna say!” Sunita squinted mid-shout. “Who are we? And when did we become so boring?!”

Evie laughed, unaware that behind her, Jamie was sneakily sliding the starry sunglasses into his knapsack. Within seconds though, he must’ve thought better of it and left them beside the Viking helmet.

“I feel old.” Evie groaned as her smirking cousin claimed his strip of photos from the collection tray and set off to meet his friends. “And tired.”

Sunita parted with the bunny ears. “Wanna go somewhere quieter, grandma?”

“Cheeky!” Evie watched Sunita place the sign face down on the table. “Hey, what’s that say? Hot Mess?”

Sunita flipped it over.

Evie’s brows jumped. “Best Boss?”

“What? I’d say it’s pretty accurate! You gave us clear roles and instructions, were encouraging yet firm—when you needed to be—and never skimped on praise. I know it made a difference to Jamie, having you trust him.”