Cash felt a surge of nausea, because Adrienne was trying to move upwards, and he had said the wrong thing. "Shh, rest," Cash said swiftly, desperation leaking into his tone — the more she moved, the more likely she was to hurt herself more, when she was already doing so poorly. He brushed his thumb against her warm forehead.

"I won't write them," he lied. If Cash kept Aristide from his twin's deathbed, the other man might kill him. That Adrienne called Trystan Selwyn papa slid right past him.