My husband beat me until I lost consciousness, then calmly told everyone at the hospital I had “slipped in the shower.”

He knew my maiden name, of course. He knew I had an older brother who was a physician. But Ethan had never been interested in family stories that didn’t involve him. Liam and I had spent years in different cities. We had never been photographed together at Apex events, and whenever Liam visited, Ethan usually found an excuse to be elsewhere.

My brother had been a fact in Ethan’s mind.

Not a person.

Certainly not the man standing between him and the bed.

“You’re Liam,” Ethan said.

Liam did not answer.

The emergency department seemed to continue around us—phones ringing, wheels turning over polished floors, a distant voice asking for respiratory therapy—but inside my room, everything felt suspended.

A security officer appeared at the doorway.

Then another.

Liam lowered the phone.

“Mr. Hayes will remain outside the treatment area until law enforcement arrives.”