Her voice was low and smooth.

Victor did not turn around to look at her.

“It’s Nathan,” Victor said.

“He can wait.”

“Is it about the Seattle development?” she asked.

“Probably,” Victor said.

“He worries about every minor delay.”

The phone stopped ringing, then started again immediately.

Nathan’s persistence was usually something Victor valued in a business partner.

Tonight, it was just an annoyance.

Victor walked over to the nightstand.

He picked up the phone and looked at the screen.

For a second, his thumb hovered over the green button.

Then he slid the ringer switch to silent.

He placed the phone face down on the wood.

“There,” Victor said.

“No more interruptions.”

He climbed back into bed beside her and pulled the sheet up.

Back in Seattle, the doctor entered my room with a metal clipboard.

His face was grim as he looked at the monitors.

“Her blood pressure is dropping,” the doctor said to Nathan.

“We need to start the broad-spectrum antibiotics immediately.”

Nathan grabbed the doctor’s sleeve, his knuckles white.

“Can you stabilize her?” Nathan asked.

“We are doing everything we can,” the doctor said.

I closed my eyes as the nurse hooked a new bag to my IV stand.

The pain in my abdomen was a sharp, twisting knife.

I thought of the company I had helped Victor build from nothing.

I had signed over my entire trust fund to secure our first office.

I had spent nights proofreading his proposals while he slept.

Now, I was fading in a cold room while he was thousands of miles away.

Nathan sat in the vinyl chair beside my bed.

He took my hand in his.

His palm was cold and sweating.

“I’m here, Claire,” he said.

“I’m not leaving.”

He tried Victor’s phone one more time.

The call went straight to voicemail on the very first ring.