“Yeah,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. “Maybe… maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s just the grief talking.”
I felt Nathan’s body sag with relief. The tension evaporated from the room.
“I knew it,” he exhaled, patting my hand. “I knew you didn’t mean it.”
“I’m just… tired, Nathan,” I said, closing my eyes to hide the hatred burning in them. “I’m so tired. I just want to sleep.”
“Of course,” he said, standing up briskly. He was eager to leave. Eager to get away from the depressing hospital room and back to his life. “You rest. I’ll handle the doctors. I’ll handle everything.”
“Okay,” I murmured.
“And Karylle?” he said. “Don’t mention the D-word again. It upsets everyone. We’re going to get through this. Together.”
“Okay,” I repeated.
He nodded, satisfied. He opened the door and ushered Danica out.
I reached under my pillow and pulled out the phone. I dialed a number I hadn’t called in ten years. A number I swore I would never need.
It rang once. Twice.
“Hello?” A sharp, elegant voice answered.