Three times, evenly, the way housekeeping does.

The talking stopped.

And I said, through the door, in a completely normal voice:

“Luca. It’s me.”

There was about four seconds of absolute silence.

Then the chain came off — he took the chain off himself, that’s the part I still think about, he had four seconds to decide and what he decided was to open the door — and my husband of ten years was standing in front of me in his undershirt with his belt undone, and I watched every drop of blood leave his face in real time.

“Jessi.”