Anna's POV:

The hospital at two in the morning has its own specific silence — not empty, but held, the particular quiet of a building that has agreed to be still.

Alexander's thumb moves across my knuckles for the third time without his seeming to notice. His voice is low, the private register he doesn't use in rooms with other people.

"I love you." He turns my hand over and presses his lips to my palm, unhurried. "I need to say it tonight. ...