Chapter 12

The Last Supper

Dinner began at eight beneath the chandelier. Julian complimented the food before tasting it. Mara laughed. "You cannot compliment something you have not eaten."

"I can compliment the effort."

"You always do that."

"Do what?"

"Find the nicest version of everything."

Julian cut into the lasagna.

"Maybe I like living that way."

Mara watched his fork rise. The room seemed to quiet

around the movement. He took a bite. She looked down at her plate before he could see her face.

Julian chewed slowly. Nothing happened. He took another bite, then a third.

Mara's shoulders loosened by a fraction.

Julian talked about a scholarship program.

She barely heard him. Every few minutes, he studied her with an expression she could not read.

"What?" she finally asked.

"Nothing."

"You keep looking at me."

"I was trying to remember when we stopped enjoying

dinner together."

Mara set down her fork.

"Why does everything have to become a conversation?"

Mara asked.

Julian leaned back. "Because we are running out of things

we can safely avoid."

"Safely?"

He did not answer. Mara looked at his plate. More than half

the lasagna was gone. A pulse beat visibly at his temple. "Do you want more?" she asked.

Julian's eyes lifted to hers.

"No."

The word was quiet. Mara took his plate to the kitchen

before he could change his mind. She wrapped the remaining

food and placed it in the refrigerator. Behind her, Julian said,

"Mara." She turned. He was standing in the doorway. "If I asked you right now whether you loved me, what

would you say?"

The question felt like a final exam for a life she had not

studied.

"Of course I love you."

Julian's expression did not change.

"That is what I thought you would say."

By ten, Julian felt a deep discomfort that did not resemble

an ordinary stomachache. He went upstairs, locked himself in

the bathroom, and sent Owen a short message: Something is

wrong. Owen called immediately. Julian did not answer. He

could hear Mara moving in the bedroom. He looked at himself

in the mirror and felt foolish, frightened, and furious all at once. He had wanted proof. His own body might become it.

When he returned to the bedroom, Mara was reading. "I do not feel well," he said.

She lowered the book. "Maybe the cheese was bad." "You ate it too."

"Not much."

Julian sat on the edge of the bed. Mara watched him

without coming closer.

He said, "Would you take me to the hospital if I needed you

to?"

"Why would you ask it like that?"

"Answer me."

On the afternoon of the final dinner, Mara moved through

the grocery store with a list she did not need. She bought

tomatoes, cheese, herbs, bread, wine. Ordinary ingredients for

an ordinary meal. The normality of the cart disturbed her.

People passed with children, coupons, phone calls, complaints

about prices. No one looked at her twice. At home she set the

table with the good dishes and changed the candles twice

because the first pair had burned unevenly. Control mattered

suddenly. If everything looked right, she could pretend the

evening itself was right. She showered, changed clothes, then

changed again. By the time Julian's car entered the drive, the

house smelled warm and familiar.

He came in carrying white roses. For one brief second, Mara

wanted to throw the entire dinner away. Julian had

remembered a conversation from months earlier when she said

white roses looked cleaner than red. He handed them to her

without ceremony.

"Peace offering," he said.

"For what?"

"For being distracted lately."

The irony was almost unbearable. Mara kissed his cheek.

During dinner Julian told her about the scholarship foundation

he wanted to establish. He had already chosen a name that

honored his mother. He spoke with the enthusiasm of

someone planning years ahead, and Mara felt an unfamiliar

pressure behind her ribs. She could still stop. The thought

returned again and again, not as morality but as an exit sign she

refused to use. Julian noticed her barely touching her food.

"You don't like it?"

"I'm not hungry."

He studied her. "You made my favorite meal and lost your

appetite before we sat down." Mara forced a laugh. "Maybe I

cooked too long." Julian lowered his eyes to his plate. When he

took another bite, something in his expression changed - not

pain, not yet, but recognition. Mara could not tell whether he

had recognized danger or simply recognized her fear. Mara's lips

parted. For several seconds, neither spoke. Then she said, "If

you need the hospital, I will take you." Midnight passed.

Julian's condition worsened. He pressed the emergency control

on his watch beneath the blanket where Mara could not see. The alert reached Owen at once. Across town, Owen left his

apartment with a medical kit, two phones, and the keys to an

unmarked vehicle he kept for emergencies. At Holloway

House, Julian stood and nearly collapsed. Mara rose halfway

from the bed.

"Julian?"

He steadied himself against the dresser.

"Hospital," he said.

Fear entered her face, but not the kind he had hoped to see.

It looked less like concern than calculation.

"Okay. Let me get dressed."

She disappeared into the bathroom and locked the door.

Julian stared at it. He heard water running. His vision blurred

at the edges. He stopped hoping he had misunderstood her.

The woman behind the door knew he was in danger. And she

was making him wait. When Mara emerged, Julian was seated

on the bed with a handkerchief clenched in his hand. "Please call someone," he said.

The word please seemed to disturb her. She picked up her

purse instead.

"I need to run out first."

Julian thought he had misheard.

"Run out?"

"I forgot something."

"Mara, I need help."

She looked directly at him. In that moment, Julian finally

understood that every offer he had given her had failed because

she did not want freedom from him. She wanted freedom

through his death.

"You know what this is," he said.

Mara's face hardened.

"How would I know?"

He almost told her about the cameras, the reports, the

searches, the sealed file. Instead he said, "Go." Mara hesitated. "You heard me," Julian whispered. "Go do whatever is more

important."

She left. The front door closed. Julian pressed the watch

again. Owen entered through the service door six minutes later.

He found Julian on the bedroom floor, conscious but barely

able to speak.

"We are not using a local hospital," Julian managed. Owen crouched beside him. "You need the closest

emergency department."

"She will check."

"I do not care what she checks."

Julian gripped his sleeve. "Across the state line. Private

facility. Patel." Dr. Samir Patel was an emergency physician

Julian had helped years earlier during a medical transport crisis

involving one of his employees. Patel now worked at a private

trauma center in the neighboring state. Owen understood the

request but hated it.

"This is not the time to disappear."

Julian's eyes sharpened despite the pain. "It is exactly the

time." Owen called ahead under a confidential security

protocol. They left through the rear service drive in an

unmarked vehicle. Julian's phone and wallet remained in the

bedroom. By the time Mara returned, the house contained

every sign of a sick man except the man himself.

If ads affect your reading experience, click here to remove ads on this page.