My phone buzzed again. Hospital billing.

I thought of Lisa lying still while strangers decided what kind of chance she deserved.

Then I closed my eyes.

“Fine,” I whispered. “I’ll marry you. But if you are hiding something that hurts my daughter, I will never forgive you.”

Adrian looked at me like I had already wounded him.

“I know,” he said.

The courthouse wedding took eleven minutes.

The clerk asked if we were entering the marriage willingly.

Adrian said yes. Then she looked at me.

I thought of Lisa’s hand in mine, warm but still, and forced the word out.

“Yes.”

There was no music and no joyful witness, only a wilted gas station bouquet his driver had bought on the way.

When the clerk pronounced us married, Adrian did not try to kiss me. He only tightened his cold fingers around mine and squeezed.

“Lisa gets the transfer?” I whispered.

“Tonight,” he said. “I’ll do it myself.”

Back at the mansion, Adrian dismissed the nurse, the housekeeper, and the driver.

“Everyone out.”

The nurse glanced at me. “Are you sure?”

I looked at Adrian. His face was pale, but firm.

“Go,” I said.

When the door closed, he pulled out the crimson envelope.

“Open it.”

My stomach twisted.

Across the front was one name.

Lisa.

“Why do you have that?”

“Because this is why I really needed you.”

I tore it open.

The first page was an accident report.

Adrian’s name. His parents, deceased at the scene. Then, under surviving parties, Lisa.

“No.”