Chapter 7 7

Kira Schultz entered like she owned the room. Chanel suit, pearl earrings, blonde hair swept into a twist that probably took an hour and cost more than Denice's monthly rent. She stopped three feet from the bed, her smile freezing as she took in the scene-Jasper's hand on Denice's chin, their faces inches apart, the intimacy of the moment that couldn't be disguised.

"Oh." Kira's hand went to her throat, a gesture of surprise that looked rehearsed. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize you had company."

Jasper stepped back. His hand fell to his side, fingers curling into a fist. "Kira. What are you doing here?"

"I came to see Ansel." She moved closer, her heels clicking on the tile, and slipped her arm through his. The gesture was automatic, proprietary, and Denice watched it with an expression that might have been carved from stone. "He's having his treatment. I thought I'd check on you while I waited." She looked at Denice, head tilting. "Is this...? Elek's wife?"

"Widow," Denice said. The word was flat. Final.

"Of course." Kira's smile didn't waver. "I'm so sorry for your loss. Elek was-" She paused, glanced at Jasper, back to Denice. "He was wonderful. We all loved him."

Denice said nothing. Her hand had found the IV line, fingers tracing the tubing where it entered her vein.

Kira's grip on Jasper's arm tightened. "You know, Denice-may I call you Denice?-I've been meaning to reach out. I feel like we have so much in common." She laughed, a silvery sound. "Everyone used to say how much you looked like me. Back when Jasper and I were-" Another glance at Jasper, coy, conspiratorial. "Well. Before I went to Paris. They said he'd found himself a little stand-in. Isn't that funny?"

Stand-in.

The word hit Denice like a physical blow. She felt it in her chest, in her throat, in the sudden tremor of her hands. Five years, and she'd convinced herself it didn't matter. That she'd misheard, misunderstood, that the overheard conversation in the hospital corridor hadn't been about her-

But Kira was smiling, and Jasper was silent, and the truth she'd buried was rising through the floorboards like smoke.

"Jasper?" Kira prompted, squeezing his arm. "Tell her. Tell her how silly everyone was. How you just had a type, back then. Dark hair, green eyes-"

"It was a long time ago." Jasper's voice was strange. Distant. "I was young. Stupid." He looked at Denice, and for a moment she saw something in his eyes-confusion, maybe. Or recognition. "It doesn't matter now."

Doesn't matter.

The finality of it crushed her. All her pride, all her carefully constructed dignity, all the walls she'd built to survive this nightmare-they crumbled. She was nothing. Had always been nothing. A substitute. A placeholder. A body that happened to fit the specifications while the real thing was unavailable.

Her fingers closed on the IV catheter.

She pulled.

The pain was sharp, immediate, blood welling from the vein and running down her hand in a thin red line. She didn't feel it. She was already moving, swinging her legs over the side of the bed, finding her feet on the cold tile.

"Denice-" Jasper reached for her.

"Don't." She backed away, her hand pressed to the bleeding wound, her eyes fixed on his face. "Don't touch me. Don't look at me. Don't-" Her voice broke. She didn't care. "You want a child? Fine. Send me a schedule. I'll be there. But don't-" She swallowed, tasted copper, kept going. "Don't pretend this is anything other than what it is. Don't pretend I'm anything other than what I am."

She turned to Kira. The other woman's smile had slipped, showing something underneath-surprise, maybe. Or satisfaction.

"Congratulations," Denice said. "He's all yours. He always was."

She walked to the door. Her legs shook, but they held. Her hand left bloody prints on the handle, on the frame, on everything she touched. She didn't look back.

The hallway was empty. She walked faster, then ran, her bare feet silent on the carpet, her hospital gown flapping open in the back. She didn't care. She couldn't care. She just had to get out, get away, get somewhere she could breathe-

The elevator doors opened.

She stepped inside, pressed the button for the lobby, watched the doors begin to close-

And saw Jasper in the corridor behind her, his hand raised, his face twisted with something that looked almost like pain.

The doors closed. The elevator descended. Denice slid down the wall and pressed her bleeding hand to her mouth, and screamed silently into her palm.