His fingers did not move.
“I suppose I should thank you for warning me. Though it would have been helpful if you’d included details.”
Nothing.
I sighed, rubbing my eyes.
“My mother used to say that when a man gives you a vague warning, he either knows too little or too much.”
The faintest crease appeared between Ethan’s brows.
I froze.
“Ethan?”
His eyelids fluttered.
I stood quickly, but not as panicked as before.
His eyes opened halfway.
This time, they found mine.
Not clearly at first. Then with effort.
“Claire,” he whispered.
My name.
A shiver moved through me.
“Yes. I’m here.”
His lips moved. I leaned closer.
“Married?”
The question was so unexpected, so fragile, that my chest tightened.
“Yes,” I said. “Technically.”
A sound escaped him. It might have been a breath. It might have been the ghost of a laugh.
Then pain crossed his face.
“Grandmother?”
“She’s here. She was with you earlier.”
His eyes shifted toward the door.
“Safe?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “She seems like the kind of woman who terrifies danger into apologizing.”
This time, the breath definitely resembled a laugh.
It faded quickly.
His hand moved weakly against the sheet. I took it without thinking.
His fingers were cold.
“Jason…” he whispered.
“What about Jason?”
His eyes closed, opened again.
“Car.”
“The accident?”
A tiny movement. Maybe a nod.
“What happened to the car?”
His breathing grew uneven with effort.
I leaned closer. “Ethan, did Jason cause the accident?”
His fingers tightened faintly around mine.
The door opened.
Anna returned, and Ethan’s eyes closed instantly.
Too fast.
Not unconscious.
Pretending.
I felt it in the change of his hand beneath mine.
Anna stopped. “Did he wake again?”
I looked at Ethan.
His fingers gave the smallest pressure against my palm.
A request.
A secret.
I heard Vivian’s voice: Jason must not know Ethan has spoken.
“No,” I said.
The lie surprised me with how easily it came.
Anna studied me for one second too long.
Then she nodded. “Try to rest, Claire.”
I did not sleep.
At dawn, the estate began to stir.
Footsteps in distant halls. The clink of dishes from somewhere below. A groundskeeper’s cart humming outside. The room filled gradually with pale morning light, and Ethan remained still, his face composed in that unnerving almost-sleep.
Vivian returned at seven wearing a cream suit, pearls, and the expression of a woman prepared to fire the weather if it displeased her.
“Dr. Moreau will be here shortly,” she said. “Jason has requested breakfast with you.”
My stomach dropped. “With me?”
“He is curious.”
“I’m sure he is.”
“Do not tell him anything.”
“I gathered that.”
Vivian looked at Ethan. “Did he wake again?”
I hesitated.
Her eyes came back to mine.