They'd been in the water for maybe an hour, Emma holding a cocktail glass and sporting a hat as wide as her delighted smile, while Josh made sure she wouldn't float towards the deep end, when Emery showed up at the door to the house.

Josh imagined it wasn't easy, for someone who wanted to control everything, to see his sister in such a risk-prone environment. He also knew tEmery wasn't fool enough to try to keep her confined to her bed as he'd have no doubt preferred. That was Emery's problem, not his. Josh looked away, pretending not to see him there, only to be caught in Emma's knowing gaze.

"Minion. Go talk to him."

"No, thank you."

"I'm serious. I want my dinner and my Scrabble. Tonight."

"Emma—"

"Please." She never pleaded. It was the lowest blow Josh could have been dealt. "Miss my Scrabble nights."

He nodded. He'd been hired to make her life the best it could possibly be. Being civil enough to share a meal and a board game with her brother wasn't too outrageous a request. He walked out of the pool, pulling her mattress with him until the water only reached his ankles.

"Okay, I'm going there, but I'm keeping an eye on you. If I catch you paddling towards the deep end I'm going to jump in here and drown you myself."

"Yes, minion. I'm very intimidated."

In the distance, Emery turned away. He'd been the poster child for good behavior for the past two weeks, always walking away from any situation where Josh would have been forced to interact with him.

"Emery," Josh called out, struggling to make his voice sound pleasant because Emma could hear it, "wait up!" It was the first time he had addressed Emery since that night.

When he reached the man after a short jog, Josh's jaw ached from being clenched. On the plus side, they were now outside Emma's hearing range, and too far away for her to see their faces. The initial hopeful surprise in Emery's eyes faded into shadows when he saw Josh's expression.

"Your sister has her heart set on things returning to normal. She wants us both to have dinner and play Scrabble tonight. You can do that, right? Pretend?"

"Of course," Emery replied, his tone subdued. "At 8 o'clock?"

"Yes." From the corner of his eye he saw Emma raising her cocktail glass at them. They both waved in return. "Now pretend I'm saying something funny."

Josh grimaced at whatever Emery was doing with his shoulders. It didn't look in the same zip code as laughter. "You're going to have to do better than that tonight."

"Yes. Of course. I... Thank you for doing this for her."

"That's why I'm here." Emma had laid down on her mattress, no longer openly looking at them, but Josh didn't let that fool him for a minute. There was every chance she was still watching them. "Clap me on the arm or something."

Again Emery did as instructed, stiff as a board. Dinner and Scrabble were going to be a challenge and a half. "Is she wearing sunscreen?"

"I wouldn't have brought her out here without it."

"Good. That's good."

With one last look at the water he turned to walk away; Josh took pity on him. "Come by the pool for a minute — we need the practice for tonight."

They made their way across the grass, trying their best to act comfortable and relaxed. Josh wished he'd taken acting lessons, though he wasn't convinced he'd have managed to fool anyone even then.

Emery was the first to notice the floating cocktail glass.

"Emma. Emma? EMMA!" Josh could outrun Emery on any day of the week but, apparently, not this one. Emery didn't stop when he reached the steps, running straight into the water in a suit Josh was sure cost more than his car; he was still wearing his shoes.

Josh didn't want to be right but, looking at the scene, something in him just knew.

"I'll get the nurse," he said, racing in the opposite direction from the pool. It wouldn't do Emma any good, but he'd get the nurse.

#

Emery knelt on the grass, performing CPR on his sister with the faultless precision of someone who'd trained for it, when Josh came back with the nurse. As Josh had anticipated, Emma was pronounced dead on the scene.

Josh could have left then, could have walked into the house at any point and left the nurse to sort out the problem of the soaked-through brother who refused to stop performing CPR even after knowing his sister was gone.

He wasn't that heartless. However much Emery had hurt him, he didn't deserve to be alone at a time like this.

Placing himself behind Emery, Josh wrapped an arm around his middle section and held him there, back to Josh's chest, not pulling him away from Emma's body yet or making any move to hinder his attempts.

"Emery. You need to let go." The compressions continued, flawlessly. "Emery. Emma's not there. She's not there. You need to stop. She's gone." He wrapped a second arm, crossing it over the first one, breathing even in the hopes Emery would unconsciously mimic it. Only after several minutes did he pull Emery away. "She's gone. You can stop now. You can stop. It's okay. You can stop."

Emery resisted until he didn't. Then he sat on the grass, brown eyes dull and lost. Josh wasn't sure Emery knew what was happening around them.

Emma hadn't had much of a relationship with the day nurse — or with the night nurse —, resenting Emery's compulsive need to keep medical staff close by at all hours of the day. As a result, Josh himself barely knew her. He felt relieved beyond measure for her presence at this moment, though — she seemed to know every step that needed to be taken.

The necessary flurry of activity that ran contrary to grief — calling hospice nurses, primary care doctors, funeral homes — was something Josh had sometimes helped with when one of his clients died; he felt grateful he wouldn't have to now. Emery wouldn't move from his spot by his sister's body. The temperature started to drop as afternoon gave way to evening, and he didn't seem to notice his suit was drenched.

It wasn't until Emma's body was taken away that Josh managed to get him to come inside the house. It was hard to believe he'd thought the worst the night would have to offer would be dinner and Scrabble. He managed to direct Emery to a hot shower before taking one himself — he was still in the trunks she'd thrown at his face that afternoon.

Josh knew he was overstepping boundaries, but he hid Emma's dinner, already delivered, away from Emery's sight. It would be beyond cruel, what he'd feel if he went into the kitchen and faced three meals, neatly waiting for three people. It was the little things, sometimes.

Afterwards, standing in the kitchen in fresh clothes, he realized he didn't know what to do.

This was the point where Josh left the families to grieve in peace, taking comfort in one another, or stayed behind to help if there was only one loved one, as had been the case of Mr. Davies.

He'd never been asked how much he charged for sexual services by any family member before, though.

"I'm afraid the people who love me will all be dead by then."

It wasn't true yet, no matter how Josh wanted to be rid of the feeling. Emery didn't have anyone else. Josh would like to stay until the funeral. Mind made up, he made his way to Emery's office, noticing the light spilling through the cracks, and knocked.

Opening the door despite the lack of reply made him come face to face with Emery, sitting in the guest chair, on the wrong end of the desk. Unseeing, red-rimmed brown eyes stared at the wall. His elbows rested on his legs, head propped on his hands.

"Emery," Josh called out, still not completely sure how to handle this, "can I come in?"

An empty nod was all the permission he would get. "She knew," Emery rasped, hoarse. "When she had the heart attack, she knew. I just spoke to her cardiologist — she wrote instructions for me. For when she... died. They could have prolonged her life there. Maybe another month, if she'd consented to stay." A wounded sound formed in his throat. "Her heart was too large, too weak, she shouldn't have been running around." An open sob now. "But she was of sound mind and she didn't allow them to tell me... She didn't even give me a chance to try to convince her...."

Josh ought to leave Emery to his grief. As so often happened where Emery was concerned, Josh's feet took him in the opposite direction of what his mind had decided and he found himself standing in front of him. "Hey. Can I get you to look at me?"

Reluctantly, Emery raised his head.

"I know it doesn't help much now, but this isn't how it usually goes. It's almost never how it goes. She died as she lived — on her own terms, doing what she liked, free. She'd have hated to go hooked up to a machine somewhere, drugged up to her eyeballs, with nothing worth doing. This was a good death. Worthy of her life. It doesn't help yet, but it will. I promise."

Emery's face crumpled. "Thank you. Thank you."

Cursing himself for a fool, Josh crouched and wrapped his arms tight around Emery. He wished there was more he could do to help.