His jaw tightens, and he stares at me for a long minute before he relaxes it. “Do you think that matters to me, Ivy?” he asks, head tilted. “Do you think I care even a little bit whether or not you feel at home in my house?”

“The other night, you…What happened to us?”

“Us? What us are you referring to?”

“You’re not human. Do you know that?”

His eyes narrow, and I watch his Adam’s apple work as he swallows. “I know what I am, dear wife.” He leans toward me, and I find myself leaning the back of my head into the bed. “I know perfectly well. And more importantly, I know what you are.”

34

Santiago

"How is your wife?" Judge greets me in the entryway.

"She's...alive." I swallow and glance over his shoulder, beyond the vast space of his foyer.

The familiar notes of Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata” are a distant murmur in another part of the house, and it brings me back to another time and place.

"She will come home soon, I hope?" He gestures for me to follow him into the sitting room.

Home.

That word leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. Ivy said my house would never be her home, and I know she's right. Too much has happened. We are living like strangers beneath one roof. A practice that is not uncommon in arranged marriages within The Society. But ours feels wrong. Tainted. And there is no fixing it.

"I believe I made a mistake." The confession spills from my lips freely as I collapse onto the sofa and close my eyes. I'm too exhausted to keep the truth inside.

"How so?" Judge asks.

I blink up at the ceiling. The music changes to a faster, angrier tune.

"I never should have married her."

The words settle over us, dark and heavy, much like the current atmosphere of my life.

"But you did," Judge responds, unmoved by my admission. "Why regret it now?"

I drag a hand over my eyes, attempting to revive myself. But how can I? All I see is Ivy, lying lifeless on the floor. I can't erase that image from my mind. I can't deny I'm responsible for her actions. And logical or not, I can't forgive her for the constant throbbing ache in my chest.

What is this pain? This feeling of suffocation I get when I think of how desperate she was to escape me. I don't recognize it. I don't know how to navigate it or how to make it stop. I've tried, but it won't go away.

She's having my child. Everything is as it should be. But she hates me so much that she would rather kill herself than continue in this life with me. I can't say I should have ever expected anything else. There was never any possibility of changing the rules of the game halfway through.