A strange calm entered me.
Maybe survival had burned through the part of me that used to apologize for bleeding.
“Evan,” I said, “where are you?”
“At home.”
“Our home?”
“For now.”
“Are you alone?”
He paused too long.
That pause told me everything I needed.
A bitter smile touched my mouth.
“Is she there?”
“Jessica—”
“What’s her name?”
“This is exactly the kind of emotional reaction I was talking about.”
“What’s her name?”
He exhaled sharply.
“Lena.”
I searched my memory.
Lena.
His assistant. Twenty-six. Bright smile. Sent Christmas cards from the office with glitter pens.
“Oh,” I said softly. “Of course.”
“It didn’t start like that.”
“It never does in your version.”
“You’ve been sick for months.”
My body went cold.
“And that made you lonely?”
“It changed everything.”
“No,” I said. “It revealed everything.”
I saw Mark’s eyes flicker at the echo of his own words.
Evan’s voice sharpened. “You think you’re so noble because you got cancer?”
“No. I think I’m done listening.”
“Jessica, don’t be stupid. You have no money without me. You haven’t worked full-time since treatments started. You need health insurance. You need the house. You need—”
“I need a lawyer,” I said.
