I shake my head and I study his face as intently as he did mine just a little while ago. And what I see isn’t pure hate like before. There’s a resignation there. An even deeper sadness.

He believes I tried to kill him yet he lied to save my life.

Can he save my life? What happens when they find out I’m not pregnant at all? Do they hang me?

God. I’m going to be sick.

Then there’s what happens to him because of me. What if he’s wrong about his standing? What about that reckoning he knows is coming?

“I have to tell you something, Santiago.”

He remains silent, arms folded, a hulking shadow in this room, this house. He’s ready for the worst. I wonder if he always expects the worst. After what happened to his family, to him, maybe it’s the only way he can be.

“I won’t be pregnant next month. Or possibly the month after, but I don’t know.”

His jaw tightens. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“The day Abel took me to that doctor, they gave me a shot. He said it was vitamins,” I start as he sets his arms by his sides, hands fisting, knuckles going white. “But even if I knew, I don’t think I could have stopped it.”

I hear him swallow.

“He told me when he came to the house the day of the gala that it was a birth control shot.”

I grip the edges of my chair waiting for him, for his reaction, my heart racing inside my chest.

“A birth control shot,” he repeats robotically like he’s processing the meaning.

I swallow, nod. I leave out the part about not wanting to have that monster’s baby because I’m starting to wonder who the true monsters are in our world.

“I’m sorry.”

His expression doesn’t change, the line of his mouth stretched tight, jaw tense. His hands balled into tight, angry fists.

He’s not quite looking at me. Not at first anyway because when his eyes do finally zero in on me, the look inside them sends ice down my spine.

“It’s not you who will be sorry for this one.” He checks his watch. “Go to your room and do not come out until I tell you that you can come out.”

“Okay.” I get to my feet, relieved. “Can I have the letters? Please?”

He nods once and I reach out to take them but as I’m setting the paperweight aside, he puts his hand over mine to stop me from pulling away.

I look up at him.

He gestures to my robe. “You’re not to swim alone.”

“Why not? The doctor said—”

“You’re not to swim alone. Only when Mercedes or I can be with you.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want you having one of your episodes in the pool.”