Twenty-four hours. A full day lost to unconsciousness and recovery.
Processed that. Tried to remember anything after the car. Came up blank.
“The implant?”
“Deactivated. Chemical release stopped. Brain damage halted.” Her professional mask slipped back into place, but I could see the emotion underneath. “You’re stable, Xavier. Actually stable.”
Something in my ribs loosened. The deadline that had been hanging over us like an axe was gone.
Wasn’t dying anymore.
Should have felt relief. Joy. Something other than the heavy weight of everything I now remembered.
“Do you want water?” Already reaching for a bottle on the nightstand. “You need to stay hydrated.”
Took it. Drank. The cool liquid soothed my damaged throat.
When I lowered the bottle, Clare was watching me with an expression I couldn’t quite read. Careful. Tentative. Like she was afraid to ask the question hovering between us.
“You said...” Her words were barely above a whisper. “Before you fell asleep. You said you remember everything.”
There it was.
Nodded slowly. “Yeah. I do.”
Clare went still. Processing. Then her expression shifted, concern mixing with relief mixing with desperate hope.
“Maeve. Do you... do you know who she is?”
The name hung between us. The ghost that had been haunting her since I’d called out during the seizure.
Met her gaze. “My sister.”
For a heartbeat, Clare didn’t move. Didn’t breathe.
Then relief washed over her.
She pressed a palm to her mouth. Tears welled.
“A sister. Not... not a wife.”
“No.” Reached for her wrist, pulled it away from her lips. Held it between both of mine. “My sister. Maeve Durham.”
She made a sound, half-laugh, half-sob.
“I thought... I was so terrified you were married. That I was...”
She couldn’t finish.
“You thought you were the other woman.” Understanding hit me. The way she’d pulled away after the seizure. The wariness in her gaze. The walls she’d tried to rebuild.
She’d been protecting herself from caring about someone who might belong to someone else.
“I’m an idiot. You were dying, and I was obsessing over...”
“You weren’t an idiot. You were scared. That’s different. And maybe a little bit jealous.”
Pink crept up her neck despite everything. “Shut up.”
