Henry climbed into a carriage that was never used, the same one he’d once sat in with Amala many times while they’d talked and speculated over a future together. The irony didn’t fully sink in until he was seated. After she’d first left, he’d come here to feel close to her, and then it had just become a habit when he’d wanted to be alone. He’d rarely come here since he’d married Kat and had become completely comfortable in his new home, and with his wife. Now, memories of being here with Amala wreaked torment and confusion, given the shock that Kat had just dealt him. He didn’t know what to do or how to feel. He could only bury his head in his hands and cry. And once he got started, all of the tears he’d been trying to keep in check while he’d watched his precious Kat wasting away now rushed into the open like a tidal wave that threatened to obliterate everything in its path.

* * * *

Amala was so stunned and overcome with a torrent of roiling emotion that she could hardly breathe, let alone move, after Henry had left the room. When she knew for certain that Kat was deep in medicated slumber, she allowed herself to let out a gasp of harsh breath that carried a sob into the open on its wake. Another came, and then another, until she dropped to her knees beside Kat’s bed, keeping her sister’s hand tightly in hers while she pressed her face into the bedding and cried the way she’d wanted to for weeks now. She’d been unable to fully feel the grief surrounding her over Kat’s impending death, but now everything had become so much more complicated and difficult in ways that Kat could never understand. Or could she? Kat had admitted to being able to see right through Amala’s attempt to hide her feelings for Henry. What else had Kat observed? She projected herself as always seeing the best in people and situations, to the point of what had appeared to be a degree of naiveté. She had always insisted on not wanting to talk about things that were sad or difficult, and that had been interpreted as perhaps being somewhat unobservant or superficial. But it was evident that even though Amala likely knew Kat better than anyone, she’d underestimated her—and even misread her. And now Kat was dying. Now there was no opportunity for long conversations where they could sort out and analyze all of this.