Chapter 4

Claire slept on the floor in the living room.

When she woke up, the house was empty. Cameron and Cassandra were gone. A dull ache had settled deep in her bones.

Today was the anniversary of Jessie's death.

She drove to the cemetery, a small bouquet of white lilies on the passenger seat.

The black marble headstone was cool to the touch. His picture smiled back at her, forever young, forever gentle. She traced the outline of his face, her fingertips trembling.

"Just one more day, my love," she whispered. "This is the last time I'll have to visit you like this. Tomorrow, we'll be together."

She stayed there until the afternoon sun began to dip below the horizon.

Her phone buzzed. A text from Cameron.

Get to the film set. Now.

He didn't even say why. She knew better than to ask.

When she arrived, she understood. Cassandra' s stunt double hadn't shown up. And Cassandra, ever the delicate flower, refused to do her own stunts.

Especially not the one they were filming today.

The scene required her to be submerged in a freezing lake.

"The light is fading!" the director yelled, impatient.

Claire had no choice. She was already weak, her body still recovering. The moment the icy water closed over her, a violent shiver wracked her body.

"Cut!" Cassandra called out from her heated chair on the shore. "That wasn't right. Your expression was off. Let's do it again."

Again and again, she found fault. Again and again, Claire was forced under the frigid water.

Her lips turned blue. Her body shook uncontrollably.

Finally, after the tenth take, Cassandra seemed satisfied.

Two crew members had to pull Claire out of the water. She couldn't feel her legs.

Cassandra walked over to Cameron, linking her arm through his. "Thank you for letting Claire help, Cam. She was wonderful."

Cameron glanced at Claire, who was shivering under a thin towel. His expression was unreadable. "It's what she's supposed to do."

"Oh!" Cassandra chirped, a new idea sparkling in her eyes. "I just remembered! I wanted to go to the temple on the mountain to pray for my health to return. They say to be sincere, you must kowtow with every step up the thousand stairs."

Mark and Leo, who were also on set, exchanged looks of disbelief.

"Cassandra, that's insane," Mark said. "Cam just had a check-up. His doctors said he needs to avoid strenuous activity. His lungs can't take it."

Cassandra's eyes filled with tears. "I... I just wanted to pray for us. I didn't mean to be a burden."

"You're not a burden," Leo snapped. "You're a menace. Ever since you came back, all you've done is cause trouble for him and for Claire."

The tears spilled over. "I'm sorry..."

Cameron wrapped his arm around her, glaring at his friends. "That' s enough. If she wants to pray, I'll take her."

He was resolute. His friends fell silent under his glower.

At the foot of the mountain, Cassandra made a show of getting ready to kneel. "I'll do it myself, Cam. You shouldn't strain yourself."

"No," he said, stopping her. And then he knelt on the cold stone, his expensive suit trousers grinding into the dirt. He bowed his head to the ground.

Claire watched him, a strange mix of emotions swirling inside her. He could be so cruel, yet his devotion to Cassandra was absolute.

He completed the first set of nine steps, his breathing already becoming labored.

Before he could continue, Claire stepped in front of him.

"Stop."

He looked up, his eyes hard. "Get out of my way."

"You can't do this," she said, her voice firm. "Your heart... your lungs. Jessie wouldn't want this."

The mention of his brother's name made him flinch.

Claire turned to Cassandra, her own eyes cold for once. "I'll do it for you."

Under the watchful eyes of Cameron's friends, Cassandra had no choice but to agree.

Claire pulled Cameron to his feet and took his place on the cold stone.

One step. One bow.

Her knees screamed in protest. Her head spun. The world was a blur of stone steps and grey sky.

The entire mountain path fell silent. The only sound was the rustle of her clothes against the stone.

Cameron stood frozen at the bottom, watching her thin, trembling back as she made her slow, arduous journey.

He felt a sharp, stabbing pain in his own chest, right where his brother' s lung resided. It was a phantom pain, fierce and suffocating.

He pressed a hand to his heart, trying to breathe.

It' s just a reflex, he told himself. It means nothing.

He could not possibly care about this woman. He couldn't.