“My husband has rights,” I said bitterly.
“Not if the hospital believes disclosure places you in immediate danger.”
A strange silence settled between us.
Immediate danger.
The phrase sounded clinical, almost ordinary. It did not contain the cliff. It did not contain the cold. It did not contain Victor’s hands striking my shoulders or Serena’s trembling voice asking whether I was dead.
I swallowed hard. “What name am I under?”
Adrian’s expression shifted.
“Emma Frost.”
Even through the pain, I stared at him. “That sounds fake.”
“It is fake.”
“Couldn’t you have chosen something less obvious?”
I closed my eyes.
Every day meant Victor remained free.
Every day meant pretending to be dead.
Every day meant lying still while my whole life burned down without me.
Dr. Walsh seemed to understand the battle on my face. “Survival first,” she said gently. “Everything else after.”
After she left, Adrian remained standing at the foot of my bed.
“There’s something else,” he said.
I opened my eyes.
“Your chart is under a protected alias. Only essential medical staff know your real identity. Hospital security has been briefed that no visitors are permitted unless cleared by me and Dr. Walsh.”
“It was chosen quickly.”
I might have laughed again if my ribs allowed it. Instead, I pressed my lips together and looked toward the window.
Snow tapped softly against the glass.
“Why were you there?” I asked.
Adrian did not answer.
I turned my head back. “At the mountain. In the storm. Why were you there?”
He looked older in that moment.
“I was already in Aspen,” he said. “Our investigators had been reviewing Victor’s financial activity. There were inconsistencies tied to the policy. I came personally because…” He stopped.
“Because what?”
His jaw tightened. “Because your name appeared on the file.”
