On the wall behind Wade, Randall’s recorded face remained motionless, one hand caught halfway toward the camera. His cheeks had already begun to hollow by then. I had not seen it on the night he left. I had seen only betrayal because that was what he had carefully placed in front of me.
Wade drew in a slow breath. “He made me promise that if you found out he was sick while your doctors still considered your treatment outcome uncertain, I would move him.”
Jonah’s forehead creased. “Move him where?”
“Somewhere else.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“It’s the answer.” Wade’s voice grew rough. “Another hospice. Another facility. Another town if that was what it took.”
For a few seconds, nobody spoke. The fluorescent light above us flickered once, making the whole unit seem to blink. Elise’s fingers opened around the wristband, then closed again.
