When it became increasingly evident that Kat was not likely to regain consciousness, Oliver and Viola both expressed tearful farewells and left the room together, leaning on each other for support as they slowly walked away. Henry believed it was better that way. He personally felt a desire to be with his wife until the very end, but they’d been warned by the doctor that it was impossible to know what to expect. Sometimes patients slipped quietly away, but it was common for some to struggle toward consciousness as the body attempted to take its final breaths. Henry preferred to think of Kat’s parents remembering her in this peaceful state.

Now that only Henry and Amala were in the room, Henry said to her, “You need to spend some time with your sister. I’ll give you some privacy.”

“I . . . don’t want to intrude,” Amala said, wringing her hands while her chin quivered.

“Your relationship with her is no less important than mine, Amala. I’ll be back shortly, but you’re welcome to stay as long as you want.”

“Thank you,” Amala said and briefly met his eyes with a silent echo of her gratitude. Had she believed he wouldn’t want her here with all that had happened earlier?

For the sake of clarification, he put a hand on her shoulder and said with firm sincerity, “Right now . . . sharing these final moments with Kat is all that matters. We both love her, and we both need to be here. It’s all right.”

Amala nodded, and he could tell she was trying very hard not to burst into tears. “I’ll give you some time alone with her,” he added, which would give her the opportunity to let those tears come forth in privacy, if that was what she needed.

Henry checked on the doctor in the sitting room and offered him a fresh cup of coffee. Dr. Cowell thanked him and continued reading from a book he’d brought with him, and Henry wondered how many hours of this man’s life he might have spent waiting for people to die. He thought of this man using his expertise to bring Harry into the world, and considered the irony. Death was as much a part of life as birth, and both required a great deal of waiting. And Dr. Cowell did it with such kindness and finesse. Henry felt a renewed gratitude to have the services of such a skilled and compassionate man at their disposal.