Chapter Forty-five
The Crack in the Marble
The storm that hit the city at three in the morning was the loudest one yet. The thunder shook the thick glass of the master suite, and the lightning lit up the room in sharp, white flashes. But it was not the thunder that woke me. It was the sound of a heavy, ragged breath beside me.
I opened my eyes and turned over. Alexander was sitting on the edge of the bed, his back bent forward. He was clutching his chest with both hands, his fingers digging into his silk pajamas as if he were trying to tear open his skin. In the flash of the lightning, I saw that his face was gray, covered in a thick layer of cold sweat.
"Alexander?" I sat up, the silk sheets falling to my waist. "What is wrong?"
He tried to speak, but only a wet, choking sound came
