"You won't leave me, right?" Rhys whispered.
"I won't," I answered, sliding my hand over his to keep him from worrying. "Not tonight. Not tomorrow. Not while you're like this."
He squeezed my fingers until his nails hurt my palm. "Say it again," he demanded.
"I promise." I tucked the blanket higher, smoothed his hair back from his forehead, counted each breath until his shoulders relaxed. He watched me like a man who had been lost and found a map.
"Why are you here?" he asked after a long pause.
"Because someone has to be," I said. "Someone you can trust."
"You trust me." He sounded astonished, then guilty. "You don't have to."
"I signed for four years." I kept my voice steady. "I meant it. I meant you."
He smiled, small and broken. "Good," he said. "Because I can't... I can't be without you."
"Then don't," I told him. "Stay here with me. Sleep."
He closed his eyes. His hand unclenched, but didn't let go of mine. I sat at the edge of the bed, alert to every tiny sound, every tremor in his breathing. The White Tower clock down the hill ticked far away. The city hummed. Up here, the room kept us both protected and exposed.
"When did Gerardo give you the new schedule?" Rhys asked in a voice too soft for the rest of the house.
"An hour ago," I said. "He told me to be ready on
