The floor seemed to drop out from under me, but I didn’t cry or scream.

I simply walked back to my room with a calm so cold it frightened even me. On the small table sat the flowers Jared had sent—white roses, with a card that read, You and me against everything, my love.

Looking at them made me physically sick.

A young nurse came in smiling, completely unaware that she was speaking to a woman who had just overheard her own execution order.

“Mrs. Harlan, you are so lucky,” the nurse said brightly.

“Mr. Harlan reserved this entire wing for you, and he hasn’t left your side for a single minute.”

I looked out the window at the busy streets of Phoenix.

Out there, the city was alive and utterly indifferent, while my marriage bled out silently inside this room.

“When you lost the baby, he cried like a child,” the nurse went on, fluffing my pillows.

“Honestly, few women have a husband as devoted as that.”

Minutes later, Jared rushed into the room, agitated and out of breath.

When he saw I was awake, he ran to my side and pulled me into a tight embrace.