CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Valentina turned her face toward the wall when the hospital door creaked open.
Marcus stepped inside quietly, but his presence was unmistakable tense, heavy, like thunderclouds collecting in a sky that had already rained too much.
He paused just inside the room, the soft click of the closing door the only sound for a long, taut moment.
“Valentina,” he said, low.
No answer.
He took two steps closer, his shoes scuffing slightly on the linoleum floor. “You’re awake.”
She remained still, staring blankly at the wall.
“I’m not leaving until you talk to me,” he said again, firmer now.
A bitter chuckle escaped her lips, dry and cracked. “What? So you can finish what I started?”
He flinched. “Don’t say that.”
“Why not?” she said, still not facing him. “You practically as
