“Locke.” She called his name with a smile, kneeling to gather him into her arms.

Later that night, Ernest tucked Elissa in and made sure she was comfortable before tending to everything else. There was still business to address. He also needed to handle arrangements for Addy’s funeral.

It was long past midnight by the time all of his tasks were done.

Quietly, he returned to their room, easing the door open with as little noise as possible. Instead of lighting up the whole space, he switched on only the soft wall lamp, letting it cast a gentle glow across the room.

He intended to check on Elissa and see if she had managed to rest.

Careful steps brought him beside the bed, hoping to find her sleeping soundly. His chest tightened. The bed was empty. Elissa was gone.

Panic washed over Ernest, who hurried from the bathroom to the closet, searching for any sign of Elissa.

His search led him at last to the terrace. There, Elissa sat in silence, bundled in her robe on a wicker chair, her knees tucked close, staring up into the darkness. A gust of wind teased strands of her hair, sending them fluttering around her face.

“Elissa.” Relief settled over him when he spotted her. Ernest swallowed the lump in his throat and took a step toward her. “The night is cold. Let’s go inside.”

Elissa’s posture remained unchanged, and she kept her gaze fixed on the endless sky. Several moments passed before she drew a slow breath and finally replied in a distant tone. “I can’t breathe in there. The walls feel like they’re closing in.”

Ernest understood right away. Her burden wasn’t from the room itself, but from something heavy inside her.

He lowered himself to her level and reached out, warming her hands in his. Quietly, he urged her, “Let’s not stay out here. The wind could make you sick, and you need to stay healthy.”

Carrying a child meant she had to avoid getting sick, since treatment options were so limited.

“Ernest…?” A hint of confusion flashed across her face as she finally looked at him.

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“You’re not alone,” said Ernest, nodding at her. “I’m right here.”

In response, her eyes fell, and tears slipped down her cheeks. When Elissa managed to speak, her voice sounded worn and fragile. “Grandpa died because of me. It was all my fault.”

A surge of dread left Ernest speechless. “Don’t say that. It wasn’t your fault—”

“But it was.” Elissa’s shoulders shook as she tried to speak through her sobs. “Grandpa was ashamed of me. He couldn’t accept what I became—your mistress, the one who ruined someone’s marriage. My actions are what killed him.”

“Don’t put that on yourself.” Ernest’s chest tightened with pain. He tried to offer comfort. “I’m the one who dragged you into this. Everything that happened is my fault. Blame me for what I did, and if you have to hate someone, let it be me. You don’t have to bear all of this alone.”

He had always believed he was far from innocent, and he made no excuses for his choices.

Elissa was different. A burden like this could shatter her completely.

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