Blake clasped her hand, his face brimming with emotion.
"Agatha, you're truly kind. If only Elaine had half your good sense."
Outside the door, a nurse's frantic voice cut through.
"Mr. Gilbert, your wife seems to have lost consciousness. She's not responding at all. Please come quickly!"
Blake rose to his feet, irritation written across every line of his face.
"She's faking it again. Always playing the fragile little victim."
He turned back and tucked the blanket around Agatha's shoulders.
"Be good, Agatha. Let me go see what kind of scene Elaine's making this time. I'll be right back."
Agatha nodded obediently.
But the instant Blake turned away, she let out a desperate scream.
She held up her phone with trembling hands, her whole body shaking.
"Blake, I never meant to pressure her into giving blood. Why is she threatening me?"
Blake's expression shifted to alarm. He snatched the phone from her hands.
On the screen, a message glared back at him, sent from my number.
"You filthy tramp. If you don't stop clinging to Blake, I swear I'll have someone put you in the ground."
Blake's face turned to ice. His fingers went white around the phone.
"Good. That's just wonderful."
"Clearly she hasn't suffered enough if she still has the energy to threaten Agatha."
He bent down and scooped Agatha into his arms, a cold laugh escaping his lips.
"Don't be scared, Agatha. I'm going to make her get on her knees and beg your forgiveness right now."
I shook with rage, wanting nothing more than to rush forward and tear his face apart.
Last night, when he'd had me tied down at the hospital to draw my blood, he'd confiscated my phone to keep me from running. Not only couldn't I have sent a threatening text, I couldn't even check the time.
All of that, and he'd already forgotten.
Blake carried Agatha in his arms and strode toward my room. He kicked the door open.
"Elaine, are you done with your little tantrum?"
"You've really gotten bold, haven't you? Threatening Agatha now? Have I been too easy on you?"
His voice was thick with fury, but the only answer he received was silence. Dead, absolute silence.
My head was covered by the blanket. He couldn't see my face, ashen and drained of every last trace of life.
Blake's brow furrowed. His tone grew more agitated.
"Don't think playing dead will get you out of this. Get up. Now. And apologize to Agatha."
Still nothing.
His anger deepened. He crossed to the edge of my bed.
"Elaine, you think ignoring me means I can't do anything to you?"
"Since when did you learn to play dead? It's disgusting."
I hovered behind him, watching him with cold, empty eyes.
Blake, I'm not playing. I'm just actually dead.
And the dead can't speak.
When I gave no reaction at all, his patience finally snapped. Blake reached out and grabbed the edge of the blanket, ready to rip it away.
A strange flicker of anticipation stirred inside me.
If he pulled it back, he would see my gray, lifeless face. He would know that the woman lying here was nothing more than a cold, silent corpse.
But in the next instant, Agatha threw herself at him, trembling violently, latching onto his arm with both hands.
"Blake, she must be so angry right now. She's hiding under the covers because she doesn't want to see me."
"This is all my fault. My illness is always causing trouble for both of you. Please don't force her. Just let her rest."
Tears streamed down her face, the picture of someone desperately holding herself together through unbearable hurt.
Blake's heart clenched. The rims of his eyes went red.
He released the blanket without a second thought and pulled Agatha into his arms.
"Agatha, you're too good for this world. Unlike some people, who do something this vile and then have the nerve to play dead."
He glanced back at me one last time, the disgust in his eyes naked and unashamed.
