He held a glass of scotch in one hand.

“What is going on in here?” Jason asked, his sharp eyes scanning the room.

His gaze lingered on the heart monitor, then drifted to me.

“I heard a change in the monitor’s rhythm from the hall,” he said, stepping into the room.

His voice was smooth, but his eyes were cold and calculating.

“It was nothing,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “I think I bumped into the sensor cable.”

I reached down and touched the wire connected to Ethan’s finger, pretending to adjust it.

Jason walked closer, his leather shoes clicking on the floor.

He stopped on the opposite side of the bed.

He looked down at Ethan’s pale, still face.

“Are you sure?” Jason asked, leaning forward slightly.

He reached out and adjusted the collar of Ethan’s gown.

His touch was devoid of any warmth or affection for his cousin.

“Yes,” I said, standing my ground. “He’s exactly the same.”

Jason looked up at me, his eyes narrowing.

“You spend a lot of time in here, Clara,” he said.