“OK,” Dr. Yang said, his eyes trailing down the list, “we’ve upped the dosage on the Clonazepam to help with the muscle spasms, your psychological assessment is good, so we’ll hold off on any sedatives and anti-depressants. The levetiracetam we’ll keep for the time being, you haven’t had any seizures since the day you were admitted. Dr. Ramirez has added some doxylamine and pyridoxine to help with the morning sickness. Now, hallucinations…”

  The doctor looked up from the list to see Zoe looking up at him, or rather, looking at something slightly to his right.

  “Zoe?”

  “Mm?” She snapped herself out of it.

  “Doctor,” Ever said, rising from Zoe’s bedside, “could you give us a minute?”

  Dr. Yang looked from one to the other momentarily. “No worries, I’ll be back in about 30 minutes or so.”

  The soul with the confused expression that had been floating by Dr. Yang’s side since he came into Zoe’s room tailed the doctor out like a lethargic shadow.

  “Since when could you see human souls?” Ever said, unable to keep the excitement out of his voice.

  “So it was a real ghost then?” Zoe replied, answering her boyfriend’s question with one of her own. “Hard to know when your brain is slowly turning to mush.”

  “To be honest, I don’t know how Dr. Yang doesn’t not see ghosts,” Ever said. “Palliative care’s all about being around people who are dying – oh.”

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  “No, don’t worry,” Zoe said. “No more dancing around it. Dying isn’t a scary thing.”

  “You’re right,” Ever laced his fingers into hers, trying to ignore how much bonier they felt, “but you dying is, to me. Also, I don’t know how to dance.”

  They looked out the window where the top of the sun had just dipped below the horizon.

  “I want to get out of here, Ever.” She lay back on her pillow, closing her eyes. “I’m not going to die in a hospital.”

  “You’re not dying anytime soon,” Ever said, as stern as he’d ever sounded.

  “Oh?” Zoe replied, opening one eye. “Wait, can you see an hourglass with sand trickling down, floating above my head or something?”

  The door opened.

  Zoe gasped. “Nyx!” She sat up and brushed her hair out of her eyes.

  “Hello Zoe,” the primordial goddess greeted as she serenely glided in, a milky way train trailing her along the ground. “Please, stay comfortable.”

  “Mother, why are you here?” Ever asked.

  Nyx cocked her head. “The last time I checked, you were a reaper, not a gatekeeper.”

  Zoe snorted as Ever turned red.

  “I’m sorry you have to see me like this,” Zoe said, gesturing to herself in mild disgust.

  “I don’t know what you are talking about,” Nyx replied. “As you are on the Cusp, you haven’t looked better.”

  “The Cusp?” Zoe echoed. “Of death?”

  Nyx shook her head, long, violet locks grazing her shoulders. “That's not what I was referring to; I’ll let my daughters explain.”

  She looked to the door as it opened once more.