Zivon tightened his hold on Lily. Mrs. Blackwell was ill? He hadn’t heard that part. But it must be why Lily had been at home already today.

Mrs. Goddard patted his cheek too. “Let your young man here take care of you for a bit. We can’t have you getting sick now. Drink something. Eat, if you can. You’ve had no more than a few bites all day.”

For the housekeeper, Lily nodded. But as soon as she left, she shook her head. “I can’t eat.”

He could understand that. But he got up and poured a tall glass of cool water. “Drink, at least. You need it.”

She took the glass from him, sipped at it. Her gaze remained glazed, latched on nothing. “She can’t be gone. She can’t. She was well this morning. Worried for Mama but perfectly fine.”

“I know. It makes no sense.” No more sense than getting the news his mother had been trampled to death in a riot. Or seeing his fiancée dead on his doorstep. No more sense than realizing his brother had perished trying to find him.

He shook his head. “I wish I could take this for you, milaya. That I could carry it instead.” Just as he wished he could have found a way to be here, to meet her still, without it requiring the deaths of his own family.

A moment later, heavy steps dragged their way toward the entrance. Zivon looked up, wincing when Clarke stumbled his way in like a drunkard and collapsed onto a chair. His eyes were every bit as unfocused and swollen as Lily’s. Zivon had never seen his shoulders so bowed.

“The doctor is finally on his way.” Clarke let out a little puff of breath that was more incredulity than laughter. “As if he can do anything now.”

“He couldn’t have done anything before either.” Lily took another sip of water. “Not when it gets into the lungs.” Her voice cracked on the last word.

Clarke scrubbed at his face and then leaned forward to brace his elbows on his knees, his face buried in his hands. “She was in perfect health yesterday. We were to go for a walk this evening. We had plans to see a show this weekend.” His fingers curled into his hair. “I was going to marry her. I have a ring. I was going to ask just before my mother arrived, so she could celebrate with us.”

Lily’s water glass shook until she lowered it to rest against her leg. “She would have said yes. She loved you.”

Lifting his head just enough to reveal his eyes, Clarke nodded and looked over at them. “We’d said those words, at least. I’m glad of that.” His gaze focused on Zivon. “How do we do this? How do we . . . keep on living?”