The storm outside had settled into a steady, rhythmic rain, but inside the Master Suite, the atmosphere was electric. Victoria leaned over the bed, her face inches from Alistair’s.
“Okay,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the hum of the medical monitors. “Let’s try this again. One blink for no. Two blinks for yes.”
Alistair stared up at her. His mind was sharp, screaming a thousand words, but his body remained a heavy, unresponsive cage. He focused every ounce of his willpower on his eyelids.
*Blink. Blink.*
“Good,” Victoria breathed, a small smile breaking the tension. “Does Beatrice know you’re conscious?”
*Blink.* (No).
“Do you want her to know?”
Alistair’s eyes widened slightly in fear. If his wife knew he was recovering, she would simply increase the dosage of the tea.
*Blink.* (No).
“Then this stays between us,” Victoria promised, gripping his limp hand. “We are going to get you back, Alistair. But we have to do it quietly. You and me. An alliance.”
Alistair looked at the woman he had once tried to destroy. She was offering him a lifeline he didn’t deserve.
*Blink. Blink.* (Yes).