I walked over to the side of his bed and looked down at him.

His hand lay limp on the white sheet, the skin cool to the touch.

I sat in the chair beside him and took his hand in mine, rubbing his fingers to bring some warmth back into them.

“They are going to try to take everything tomorrow,” I whispered to him.

His chest rose and fell in a slow, artificial rhythm.

“But I won’t let them,” I said, my voice cracking slightly. “I am going to stop them, Ethan.”

As if in response, the heart monitor picked up slightly, its steady beep accelerating by just a fraction.

I leaned in closer, watching his face.

His eyelids flickered, a tiny, almost imperceptible movement under the thin skin.

“Ethan?” I called out softly.

He did not open his eyes, but his fingers twitched against my palm, a faint, desperate pressure that lasted for only a second.

A sudden knock on the door made me jump, my heart leaping into my throat.

I stood up quickly, smoothing down my cardigan.