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“Whatever,” Brandy says. “I want to see Nadine try to pronounce it.” She pulls her legs off my lap. “C’mon, girl.”

I get up, ignoring the head rush when I do. Whether it’s the flu or Shanna staging an uprising, I don’t know. But I can’t pass on the possibility of beating Nadine at Scrabble.

“Hey, can I use your bathroom real quick?” Brandy asks Layla, who nods and pulls a hoodie on over her LVAD before we leave. A prescription bottle falls out of the front pocket, rolling to a stop at my feet.

“Dropped this,” I say, checking the label before I hand it over. “You still on the Oxy?”

“Just to sleep sometimes,” she says, tucking the bottle into her top drawer. “You need any for . . . you know.” She grinds up against the dresser, her LVAD cord flapping at her side.

“Gross,” I say.

“Uh, yeah, but do you need ’em?”

“I haven’t seen him since . . .” I tuck my own cord up into my sweatshirt. “Since this. I don’t know how I feel about him seeing me with it.”

“Got you,” she says. “But don’t let it stop you. I’ll give you a few so you have them if you change your mind.”

“Later,” I say, dropping my voice as Brandy comes out of the bathroom. The last thing I need is both of them making pelvic thrusts at me as I try to slip Angela narcotics so I can sneak out to see Isaac.

“The wordsters have arrived,” Brandy announces when we get to the common room. “Well, one wordster, anyway.”

Nadine rolls her eyes, but Jo makes a spot for me at their table. A couple of the smaller kids are at another table with Junior Scrabble, the winter day being boring enough to draw out a decent attendance at a cardiac center event, for once. Nurse Karen walks by and gives us a serious look before going over to sit with the littles.

“We know, no actual scrappin’,” Layla says as she pulls a stuffed chair over to our table to watch, though it looks like Brandy is doing most of the work by pushing. I can’t help but notice the sheen of sweat on Layla’s face as she flops into the chair, how shallow her breaths are.

“Fine, I’m fine,” she waves off my questioning look.

I draw my tiles, not thrilled with what I’ve got. Brandy immediately leans over my shoulder and spells out fuckers.

“Sixteen points,” I tell her. “That’s actually pretty good. Sure you don’t want to play, wordster?”

Somebody’s phone goes off on vibrate, the hum filling the air.

“Nah,” Brandy says, “I’ve got—” The phone goes off again, and she pulls hers out to check it. “Not me.”

Mine is back in my room, so I shake my head as it goes off a third time. Layla digs into her hoodie pocket, and Jo flips hers over from where it was facedown on the table.

“Me either. Nadine? That you?”

She shakes her head, her eyes narrow and intense on her tiles. “Mine’s dead. I—Holy shit!” Nadine jerks her arm, sending letters flying off the table as she grabs for her side.

“Karen! Karen! Holy shit!” Nadine screams, yanking her transplant pager from her belt loop and holding it in the air. “It’s mine! It’s mine! A positive, baby! Holy shit!”

Jo claps her hands over her mouth, her eyes huge above her fingers. Karen runs from the kids’ table, torn between getting Nadine to stop swearing and being happy for her. Brandy and I glance at each other, then look to Layla who is trying hard to smile, but she lifts her shirt up to double-check her own pager, just in case. I don’t tell her the odds of two A positive hearts coming in at the same time.

“You see that? You see that!” Nadine is still shoving her pager in people’s faces, jumping up and down and yelling. At this rate she’s going to have a heart attack before they can get her over to the hospital.

“Nadine, honey. Get your bag, we’ve got to get you moving,” Karen says, as the nurse managing the desk comes in, her smile blasting a number one on the pain scale.

“Ambulance is on the way,” she announces. “It’s go time.”

Nadine does one last fist pump and slams Jo a high five before noticing Brandy and me being less than excited about her new lease on life.

“Hey, Layla,” she says, jerking her chin. “Don’t worry. Black lives matter, just not to the organ donor registry.”

Layla goes a shade paler. Brandy jumps to her feet and Jo covers her head as the Scrabble board goes flying, sending Nadine back a few steps.

“You bitch,” Brandy says, her voice low and dark. “I swear to God—”