LOGINFawn’s POVWhen I opened my eyes again, the lighting had changed. Someone had turned off the overhead lights and put on a small light over the bed. It was also dark outside. The clock on the wall said I’d only been asleep for a few hours, but it felt longer.Blake was still there.Only now he wasn’t reading or glaring or watching me like a puzzle he couldn’t solve.He was asleep. Why was he still here? He didn’t love Cassie… was, in fact, in the process of divorcing her.The chair had turned into a makeshift bed, his long body slouched back, head tipped sideways against the wall, one hand still resting on his stomach, fingers slack. His other arm lay along the armrest, close enough that if I reached out, I could touch him.His face, without the constant control, looked different. Younger. Less like a power-wielding CEO.I stared.Something in my chest did a weird little twist.Of all the people to end up near in the second half of my life—or whatever this was—how had I got the one man
Blake’s POVI saw then what I hadn’t let myself look at before. The deep grooves bracketing his mouth. The way his shoulders sagged when he thought no one was watching. Guilt, yes. But not just about me. About every decision he’d made on this ward for three decades.“No,” I said after a beat. “What I want is simple. I want you to admit you don’t know what’s going on in there.” I jerked my chin in the general direction of Cassie’s room. “I want you to stop talking about her like she’s a chapter in a textbook. Start looking at what went wrong.”He exhaled slowly. “We are not pretending to have all the answers, Mr. Huntington. We’ll… review our processes,” he said. “I can promise you that.”“You’d better,” I said. “Because if you ever tell another family there’s no hope when there is, and I find out you haven’t changed a damn thing, I will bring every lawyer I own down on this place so hard they’ll feel it in the basement.”That, at least, was familiar ground. Threats. Leverage. Conseque
Blake’s POVAnger had been sitting in my chest all day like a weight. I’d been ignoring it. I’d had better things to do.But the anger was at the situation I found myself in.I had listened to doctors tell me, again and again, that there was no hope.No neurological function.No chance of recovery.Brain dead.I could still hear the older consultant’s voice in my head, calm and impersonal, as if he was discussing a faulty engine instead of my wife.Ex-wife. Almost ex. Didn’t matter right now.Six months of me standing in this shitty room twice a week, looking at a stranger’s body with my wife’s face and hearing the same refrain.She’s gone.So why the hell had the “clinically brain dead” woman just sat up and told me she’d been murdered?My jaw tightened.
Fawn's POVOne corner of his mouth twitched. “I’m starting to notice.”We let that sit there for a second, thickening the space between us. The air felt heavy with everything neither of us was saying. I shifted, suddenly aware again of the flimsy gown and how exposed my legs felt under the thin blanket and the backless gown.“What happens when they decide I’m not going to drop dead mid-MRI?” I asked, if only to get us off the topic of what I felt like. “Do they keep me here? Ship me off to some rehab center with group therapy and inspirational posters?”His expression shuttered. “No.”“No?”“You’ll come home,” he said. “To the penthouse. It’s secure and private. It’s where you lived before. It makes sense.”Home. The word scraped something raw inside me. Not Fawn’
Fawn's POV“I think,” I said slowly, choosing each word carefully, Blake was too sharp, “that I’m allowed to be a little confused. Maybe the nurses’ station had a late-night thriller playing, and my coma brain remembered it and slotted it in where it didn’t belong.”He didn’t answer. He just sat there, elbows on his knees, fingers loosely laced together, watching me like I was a chessboard, and he was trying to work out which pieces were actually on the board and how best to proceed.“You know, I have never known you to have a sense of humour.”Fawn hadn’t either. Not surprising, being married to Richard. But being killed changed a person. I wouldn’t be surprised if I kept shocking him in the weeks to come, because I was even surprising myself.It was kind of weird. I didn’t see myself as Fawn anymore. I thought about her like she was another person. But I wasn’t Cassie either. I sort of sat somewhere in between.Before I could respond, a nurse came in with a tray, breaking the strang
Fawn’s POVOf course it was psych time. We’d done the poking, the tapping, the lights-in-the-eyes; now they needed to make sure I wasn’t going to flip a table or start speaking in tongues. Fair, I guess. But who could blame me for being a little freaked out? I was a body snatcher.“As long as you’re not here to take more blood,” I said. “I’m pretty sure I’ve donated enough for three vampires and a large family of blood-sucking leeches. With a name like Dr Butcher, I’m not sure I would want you anywhere near me. You know, you really should consider changing that. It gives a bad first impression.”“I hear that a lot, but I think my husband would be upset if I didn’t keep his name.” Her mouth twitched. “But I promise no blood. Just some questions.”She then glanced toward Blake. “Would you prefer to speak alone, or is it all right if Mr Huntington stays?”I thought about that for a second. Alone meant they’d press harder. With Blake here, I’d have an audience, but at least there’d be a w







