When I gave no reaction at all, his patience finally snapped. Blake reached out and grabbed the edge of the blanket, ready to rip it away.
A strange flicker of anticipation stirred inside me.
If he pulled it back, he would see my gray, lifeless face. He would know that the woman lying here was nothing more than a cold, silent corpse.
But in the next instant, Agatha threw herself at him, trembling violently, latching onto his arm with both hands.
"Blake, she must be so angry right now. She's hiding under the covers because she doesn't want to see me."
"This is all my fault. My illness is always causing trouble for both of you. Please don't force her. Just let her rest."
Tears streamed down her face, the picture of someone desperately holding herself together through unbearable hurt.
Blake's heart clenched. The rims of his eyes went red.
He released the blanket without a second thought and pulled Agatha into his arms.
"Agatha, you're too good for this world. Unlike some people, who do something this vile and then have the nerve to play dead."
He glanced back at me one last time, the disgust in his eyes naked and unashamed.