Santiago releases me, and I run to my father, who looks surprised and then happy, so happy. He opens his arms, and I’m careful when I hug him, feeling his arms around me, having mine around him.

When I pull back, he takes both of my hands in his and looks me over, pausing at my stomach momentarily before smiling back up at me. I’m wearing a Henley and jeans, but I don’t think I'm showing in this. He glances over my shoulder then, and I follow his gaze to see Santiago standing by the door, one arm folded across his chest, the hand of the other closed over his chin, watching us.

“Thank you, son,” my father says, and when Santiago opens his mouth, he catches himself. “Santiago.”

Santiago nods and shifts his gaze to me, then opens the door without a word. He gestures to the nurse, who leaves and then follows her out.

He is trying.

And he’s right. I know Mercedes is just jealous. And I get it. I usurped her throne. It’s not even about me. I’m sure she’d hate anyone who took her place in Santiago’s life. It would be strange in a normal situation, but given what they’ve gone through, the loss of both brother and father on one terrible night, the death of their mother soon after that, then the near loss of Santiago, I can see how they’d become so central to each other. Although I don’t think it’s quite the same for Santiago. But then again, maybe if Mercedes found someone, maybe Judge, she would be different too.

I turn back to my father, who is studying me with a smile. “He married you.”

I nod.

“What about school?”

“That’s not really in the cards anymore.”

“Perhaps in time. Sit down, Ivy.” There’s a small couch along one wall, and I take a seat there. The room isn’t big, and my father rolls himself closer. “I’m sorry I don’t have anything to offer you.”

I smile a little awkwardly. It’s been so long since I’ve seen him and so much has changed. “It’s just really good to see you like this.”

“Well, I’ve been better.”

“You’ve also been worse. I’m glad you woke up from the coma.”

“That’s thanks to your husband.”

“Santiago?”

“I was poisoned, Ivy. I read the report. What he said is true. It wasn’t cardiac arrest or a sudden stroke or whatever they told you. What happened to me was brought on by poison.”

I’m not sure how I feel about this. Fear, I guess. Cardiac arrest or a stroke would have been better. Poisoned means someone tried to kill him, and my mind wanders to that lipstick I found. To Abel’s silence when I questioned him.

“Is he treating you all right?” he asks.