Free Break No Bones by Kathy Reich

nodded. "I was in remission, but I've relapsed. I'm getting the CHOP regime on an outpatient basis. Vincristine, prednisolone, doxorubicin, and cyclophosphamide.
    My biggest worry is infection. The cytotoxic drugs leave me wide open to infection. One good staph offensive could lay me flat."
    I wanted to close my eyes, to make this al go away. I kept them open.
    "You're a helcat." Forced smile. "You'l be fine."
    "I learned Saturday that I'm not responding as wel as my doctor had hoped."
    The bad-news phone cal. Was that what Emma had started to share outside the hospital? Had I been too preoccupied with the skeleton to listen? Had I done something to discourage her confidence?
    "Have you told anyone?"
    Emma shook her head.
    "That wasn't a migraine on Saturday."
    "No."
    "You should have leveled with me, Emma. You could have trusted me."
    Emma shrugged. "You can't help. Why worry you?"
    "Does your staff know?"
    A look flared in Emma's eyes. "I've lost some weight and some hair, but I can stil do my job."
    "Of course you can."
    I stroked Emma's hand. I understood my friend. But only in part.
    Emma cared fiercely about her duties, and would let nothing interfere with her performance of them. She and I were clones in that way.
    But something else drove Emma Rousseau. Something I'd never fuly grasped. A desire for power? Recognition? Some manic need to outshine? Emma marched to drumbeats I didn't hear.
    "They're having a lot of success with lymphoma these days." Lousy at nurturing, I fel back on cliché.
    "Damn right."
    Emma raised a palm. I high-fived it. Her hand dropped back to the bed.
    Diffuse large B-cel. A high-grade lymphoma. The cancer was destructive and moving fast.
    I felt burning behind my eyes. Again, I managed to keep them open. To keep my lips smiling.
    The muffled sound of "Bad Boys" floated from a bedside locker.
    "My cel," Emma said.
    "Is that the COPS theme?"
    Emma gestured impatiently. "It's in the plastic bag with my clothes."
    By the time I extracted the phone the music had ended. Emma checked the caler ID and hit redial.
    I knew I should protest, should advise rest and stress avoidance, but it was pointless. Emma would do what Emma would do. In that, we were also clones.
    "Emma Rousseau."
    I heard a tinny voice on the other end of the line.
    "I've been tied up," Emma said.
    Tied up? I mouthed.
    Emma shushed me with a hand.
    I roled my eyes. Emma pointed a warning finger.
    "Who phoned it in?"

    The tinny voice answered, but I couldn't make out the words.
    "Where?"
    Emma pantomimed writing. I dug a pen and tablet from my purse. The IV tubing rattled as Emma scribbled.
    "Who's on it?"
    The tinny voice spoke at length.
    "Give me the particulars."
    Emma shifted the phone and the voice was cut off. As she listened, her eyes flicked to her watch. It wasn't there. She pointed at mine. I held out my wrist.
    "Don't touch the body. I'l be there in an hour."
    Clicking off, Emma threw back the blanket and swung her legs over the side of the bed.
    "No way," I said, placing a hand on each of her knees. "Unless I'm mistaken, you lost consciousness a few hours back."
    "The ER doc says it's fatigue brought on by the meds. Al my vitals are good."
    "Fatigue?" Even for Emma, this was a stretch. "You colapsed and nearly left your brains on the floor."
    "I'm OK now." Emma stood, took a step, and her knees buckled. Bracing against the headboard, she closed her eyes, wiling her body to work.
    "I'm fine," she whispered.
    I didn't bother to argue. Prying loose her fingers, I eased Emma back onto the bed, and puled the blanket to her waist.
    "I have too much to do," she resisted weakly.
    "You're not going anywhere until a doctor releases you," I said.
    Emma's eye rol left mine in the dust.
    I looked at my friend. She had no husband or children. No lover that I knew of. She'd spoken once of an estranged sister, but that had been years ago. As far as I knew Emma had no one close in her life.
    "Do you have friends who can look in on