CHAPTER ONE
The universe wasn’t a rational or fair place. Polly Warren knew this better than anyone. If the universe had any sense of cosmic justice, she wouldn’t have breast cancer. If the world was just, she’d have a caregiver who lived closer than two hours away. If the world was just, she wouldn’t be a twenty-six-year-old with breast cancer, single, alone, and, as of two weeks ago, without a job.
It was nearing five o’clock, and Polly Warren knew that she was going to get stuck in afternoon traffic. She just knew it. It wasn’t the best way to end an already awful day but she supposed it could be worse. After all, she’d just finished her third cycle of chemotherapy. In a just universe, she’d be able to skip all the traffic, return home, enjoy a glass of wine, and conk out in front of a trashy reality show.
The one caregiver she did have was her sister, who lived in the town of Poquoson—almost two hours outside of Richmond, a bit shy of Norfolk. She’d come with Polly to the first several treatments, but when it had become clear that Polly’s side effects were minimal, Polly had insisted she stop making the drive every time she had an appointment. After each treatment, Polly spent forty-five minutes watching YouTube clips on her phone to make sure she was okay to drive home. And not a single time had she had any sort of serious side effects.
She had a brother, too, and he lived locally—just a fifteen-minute drive up the road. But he’d seen this cancer kill their mother and he’d kept his distance from Polly ever since her diagnosis. No big deal, really, as Kevin had distanced himself from the family for about a decade or so now. She hadn’t even seen him in over three years.
Secretly, though, she was glad. Kevin being around as she was going through this would make it even harder and much more stressful. As for her sister, she’d asked her not to come anymore because there was something about her presence and help that made Polly feel uncharacteristically weak. It was bad enough that she had to deal with the fact that she had cancer, but having someone there to walk her through it and hold her hand was sort of demeaning in a way she couldn’t quite grasp. And Polly knew that if she was going to beat this, she was going to have to keep a positive mindset about the whole thing. Though the doctors were not giving any sort of news or updates to make her think she would beat it. In fact, Polly knew her chances of surviving were slim.
Polly walked to her car, on the western edge of the hospital parking lot. Even from there, not yet in her car and looking out to the highway, she could see the looming lines of rush hour traffic. She started to wonder if maybe she’d stop by that little Japanese hibachi place just down the road and wait out the traffic there with some sushi.
It was another example of trying to keep a positive mindset, of not letting a cancer diagnosis tear her down.
She had nearly approached her car when she heard her name. It was from a sweet-sounding voice, coming from somewhere nearby.
“Polly?”
She paused and looked to the right. There was a man about her age walking toward her. He looked shy and quite handsome. He had shaggy brown hair, a five o’clock shadow, and a crooked smile. It was the smile that stopped her. It was the sort of smile that would have won her over without a word back in the days when she used to frequent bars and clubs.
“Hi…?” she said. “Do I know you?”
The grin got wider. She thought she should know him. If she’d ever met a guy that looked like this, with a smile like that, she was pretty sure she’d remember him.
“Well, I’d hope you would,” he said. “It’s going to hurt my feelings a bit if you don’t remember me.”
She cocked her head and returned his smile. She felt a bit weak because of the treatment but apparently, it did nothing to curb her interest in cute men. “Maybe,” she said. “I’m sorry, I’m just a little out of sorts from an appointment I just had. We’ve met before?”
He chuckled and looked to the ground. “We have. And apparently, it wasn’t very memorable.”
“Well, what’s your na—”
The punch came out of nowhere. By the time Polly attempted to take a step back, she realized it wasn’t going to be just a punch. No, the handsome man’s hand came up and over in an arc, as if he were about to chop firewood. And just before he landed the blow, Polly saw something small and shiny in his hand. The handle to something? A bar, a lead pipe…?
She didn’t know. What she did know was when the object struck her head, the world went black. She fell to the ground, her head a wall of pain. She knew when the second blow came, but she didn’t feel it; she simply heard it, a soft and crunching sort of sound.
Maybe there would be a third one, too. But if it came, she was not aware.
She was dead half a breath after the second.