I’ve already called Dante. He calls Callum and Fergus. Fergus is the first to arrive at the hospital. He comes into Riona’s room, his face chalk-white with fury.

“Where is he?” he hisses at me.

“Oran?” I say. I’m mindful of the fact that whatever he may have done, Oran is still Fergus’s brother. “He’s back at the law office. But I’m sorry to tell you, Sir—he’s dead.”

I see a twitch at the corner of Fergus’s mouth. A tiny grimace. It’s immediately swallowed up by his cold fury.

“He’s damned lucky, then,” Fergus says.

He sits down next to Riona’s bed, stroking her hair back from her forehead. That red hair is the only color on her person at the moment. It looks more brilliant than ever against her pallor.

I’m torn, because I think Fergus might want to be alone with his daughter. But I don’t want to leave Riona’s side—not for an instant.

Fergus can feel me standing behind him, my eyes fixed on Riona’s face.

“You don’t have to leave,” he tells me. “It’s because of you she’s alive.”

“I shouldn’t have let her drive back alone,” I say.

Fergus lets out a small chuckle. “I doubt you had much choice about that,” he says. “I know my daughter. She makes her own decisions.”

He turns around to look at me fully. His face gives me a bit of a shock, because it’s so similar to Oran’s. Other than some small differences in coloring, Fergus could have been the man I saw lying dead on the carpet an hour ago. But there’s a fierceness in his face that Oran didn’t have. Men have the ability to recognize leaders—it’s clear at a glance that Fergus is a boss.

“Parents love all their children,” he tells me. “But not all children are equally able to accept love. I’ve tried to show Riona how much I value her. But I don’t think she’s ever understood how much she means to me.” He touches her hair again, gently, just like Imogen did in the kitchen. “I’m not blaming her,” he says. “I only wish I spoke her language better.”

I look at Fergus, and I think about my own father. I think about the day I discovered that Waya wasn’t related to me by blood. He was only my father by caring for me, teaching me, protecting me, and loving me. He was only my father in all the ways that mattered.

I wasn’t able to accept his love in that moment.

But I felt it every day since.

“She knows,” I say to Fergus. “Trust me, she knows.”

Fergus nods, slowly. “I hope you’re right,” he says. After a moment, he adds, “I owe you a debt. Whatever we were paying you—”

I interrupt him. “There’s no debt.”

Fergus persists. “Yes, there is. Forgetting a debt doesn’t mean it’s paid.”

He can see that I’m uncomfortable. That I don’t want to be rewarded for taking care of Riona.

Not by him, anyway. Only Riona can give me what I actually want.