“What’s going on?” I asked.
“Before they took her back,” he said, his voice already unsteady, “Nadia made me promise to tell you something. Only if she didn’t wake up.”
⸻
My whole body went cold standing in that hallway.
“Ben,” I said, catching myself, using the old childhood nickname without meaning to, “why would you even say that right now?”
⸻
“Now it’s time for you to understand why I really married her,” he said, gripping both my hands tightly enough that it actually hurt slightly.
My stomach dropped completely.
⸻
“Marcus, what are you talking about?” I asked, my mind already racing toward every dark possibility it could construct in a matter of seconds. Had he married Nadia for our parents’ modest savings? Had it been some strange, misguided way of staying close to me all these years, using my sister as a bridge he never had the courage to build directly? I hated myself for even letting those thoughts form, but they came anyway, fast and unwelcome.
⸻
Marcus watched my face for a long moment, and I think he saw exactly where my thoughts had gone, because something like hurt flickered briefly across his own expression before he answered.
“It’s much worse than you think,” he said quietly. “You’d better sit down.”
⸻
He pulled a folded sheet of paper from the inside pocket of his jacket, his hands shaking as he unfolded it and held it out to me.
I recognized my sister’s handwriting immediately, careful and slightly slanted the way it had always been, ever since she’d first learned to write her own name.
⸻
I barely made it through the first line before I had to press my hand over my mouth to keep from making a sound loud enough to draw the whole hallway’s attention.
⸻
Elise, if you’re reading this, it means something went wrong, and I need you to understand it wasn’t an accident nobody saw coming. I’ve known for two years exactly how much risk this pregnancy carried. I chose it anyway, and I need you to know why, before you spend the rest of your life being angry at Marcus for something that was always my decision, not his.
⸻
