He sat in a hard plastic chair beside her bed, elbow resting on the edge of the mattress, his fingers wrapped around her wrist as if it were made of delicate glass. It was morning, and he hadn’t slept at all. Roman had dropped clothes off, and the nurses had let him use the shower in Sutton’s private room they had moved her to around eleven last night.

Luca hadn’t left her for more than a few minutes; he couldn’t. He was so worried that if he turned his back on her for even one second, ...