His words hit me like a cold splash of water and I understood.
Amaris must have told him about Silas moving in long before.
In my past life, I had fretted over how he might react, even trying to explain things to him.
Now, I saw how utterly pathetic and futile those efforts had been.
My heart sank deeper, settling in a pit of cold realization.
Since you were all so determined, just wait and see.
In the days that followed, though I had stopped drinking the medicine, I continued to play the role of the helpless patient.
I pretended to be weak, even telling Amaris and Silas that I was too frail to leave my bed.
Amaris’s eyes sparked with brief excitement when she heard, but she quickly masked it, replacing the glint with a concerned frown.
Silas played along, too, suggesting he might take me to a hospital in the city.
Of course, he never made a single move to do so.
That day, Silas was in the courtyard, moving things with loud, strained grunts that echoed through the air.
"Amaris, come help me out. Pass me a towel."
Silas’s voice called out, rough and demanding.
Amaris hurried over, clutching the towel and wiping the sweat from his face with tender care.