She helped her friend stand and rinse off the last of the filth from her body, then brought her into the bedroom and helped her dress in a clean pair of loose jersey pants and a sweater. Izzy had always been slimmer than Roxanne, though now, she seemed almost skeletal. Her eyes were still bright with fever, but she seemed calmer and more coherent than she had when Roxanne and Julian had arrived at the house. Roxanne tucked the younger woman into her bed, tightening the blankets around her, as if that would help her spirit stay close and safe. Then she lied down on top of the blankets, stroking Izzy’s hair gently back from her face. “How’re we doing?” “Mmm,” Izzy said, slowly and carefully curling on her side. “Hurts. But my stomach is better. And my head.” “What you said in there—” Izzy raised her eyebrows and smiled a faint and brittle version of her smile.
