Chapter 91

• Alessia
• The room is dark except for the soft blue light bleeding through the curtains. Marco’s side of the bed is empty, still warm. I keep my eyes closed, my breathing even, steady, though every inch of my body is alert, poised like a hunter and prey all at once.
• I hear the soft rustle of his footsteps across the hardwood floor. The creak of the wardrobe door. The unmistakable metallic slide of a drawer. He’s moving with his usual precision. He thinks I’m asleep.