“I am his wife,” I replied, using the title that still felt like a lie.

“An arranged one,” Jason reminded me with a thin, mocking smile. “Lest you forget your father’s situation.”

“I haven’t forgotten,” I said.

“Good,” Jason said, taking a sip of his drink. “Because my grandmother expects results, not sentimentality.”

He looked back down at Ethan.

“He isn’t going to wake up,” Jason said softly, almost to himself.

“The doctors say there is always a chance,” I said, watching Jason’s face closely.

“Doctors are paid to be optimistic,” Jason said, turning back toward the door.

He paused and looked over his shoulder.

“Don’t get too comfortable, Clara,” he said.

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving me alone in the dark room once more.

My heart was still racing.

I looked at Ethan’s still form.

I knew my life depended on keeping his secret.

The next morning, the rain had stopped, leaving a heavy fog over the Hudson River.

I sat in the armchair by Ethan’s bed, my eyes burning from lack of sleep.

I had spent the entire night watching his chest rise and fall.