Vivienne’s POV

My phone keeps vibrating like it’s trying to crawl out of my hand.

Marlowe’s name lights the screen again and again while I stand outside the ICU, staring through the glass. Jonah lies perfectly still, a tangle of tubing and leads pinned to him, the monitors ticking out their cold, even music.

He’s ghost-white. Fragile in a way I’ve never seen.

Sienna did this.

No—I'm the one who set the ...