"Are you still awake?"
"I—" I cut the phone to my ear with my palm and force my voice calm. "Yes. Who is this?"
"Evie. You know, the woman Dorian invited to his charity gala. I'm home." Her voice slides sweet and slow. "Did you miss me?"
"I said who is this." I keep my eyes on the dark window. The city lights make the glass a smear. I keep my hands flat on the cover, counting the seconds between breaths.
"Don't be dramatic, Emily." Evie laughs. "Dorian and I finally signed something. We did it quietly. He wanted to spare you the scene."
"What did you sign?" I ask.
"You'll hear about it. Or you won't. You know how the law works when you're incapacitated." She makes the word soft and final. "He signed everything. Divorce. Custody. Organ transfer."
I hear nothing from the room behind me. No shoes. No glass breaking. Only her voice and the hum of the fridge somewhere down the hall.
"Organ transfer?" I repeat. I don't let my voice wobble.
"You delivered the night he wanted. Then everything became tidy." Evie sounds like a woman reading instructions. "Paperwork dated five years from today. Emergency clause. He thought of everything. He always thinks of everything."
I move. Fast and careful. I drop the phone onto the mattress without closing the call. "Where are you now?" I ask.
"At home. With our lawyer. With the note. Dorian's signature is
