A hand reached out of the darkness and grabbed my phone.

I gasped, my heart slamming against my ribs.

The screen went black as fingers clenched around the metal casing of my phone.

I turned my head so fast my neck popped.

Nathan was standing right beside the bed.

He had not been in the room a moment ago.

He must have slipped back through the connecting door from the bathroom while I was staring at the monitor.

He still wore his blue surgical scrubs.

His chest was rising and falling quickly in the dim light.

“You shouldn’t be watching that,” he said.

His voice was a low, dry whisper.

“Give it back,” I said.

My voice shook, but I did not let myself shrink away.

Nathan did not move.

He held my phone face down against his thigh.

“It is three in the morning, Clara,” he said.

“What were you doing in Lily’s room?” I asked.

I reached for the lamp on the nightstand.

His hand shot out and caught my wrist before I could touch the switch.

His grip was cold and firm.