The Polar Night Won't Shine on the Faithless

My stomach clenched hard, and I gripped the porcelain sink, retching.

The water rushed loudly, covering the sobs I couldn't hold down.

The door was pushed open gently.

"Eve, why are you throwing up so hard?"

Adrian walked in carrying a glass of warm water.

He brought the glass to my lips. The temperature was just right, with the honey I always drank and a little lemon added in, the kind of care he always gave, thoughtful to the point of near perfection.

With his free hand he gently tucked the loose strands of hair off my forehead behind my ear, his eyes full of an aching tenderness.

"You've been worn out lately with the wedding and taking care of yourself. Have a sip. Don't scare me."

I stared at those hands.

Just minutes ago, these same hands had been stroking the tattoo on Selena's ankle in that video, obsessed, as if caressing some sinful, precious relic.

My fingertips trembled beyond my control.

I didn't call him out. I just took a deep breath and slowly pushed his hand away from my cheek.

"I'm fine. Maybe it was the sea breeze last night."

Adrian slid his arm around my shoulders, his voice as gentle as if he were soothing a frightened bird.

"Come on. Our parents are all waiting at the private club. Today's the big day we set our wedding date. Let's not worry them."

The moment I followed him out the door, an image from my doctoral years suddenly flashed through my mind.

That year, my core aurora model was stolen by someone in my own lab.

It was Adrian who spent the whole night organizing every piece of raw data, who stood before the college committee in his long black coat and slammed the report proving my innocence down onto the long table.

Back then he'd stood in front of me, his lean figure unwavering.

"No one gets to stain Eve's name."

Remembering that line now, I only felt a chill crawl up behind my ears.

Back in the private dining room we'd booked, both sets of parents were chatting warmly about the wedding details.

The dinner was at a private seaside club, all dark wood walls, brass candlesticks, white roses, and silver cutlery, exactly like a rehearsal for the "tasteful and restrained" wedding Adrian always talked about.

Only Selena was late.

It wasn't until forty minutes after the meal began that the door finally opened.

Selena walked in wearing a wine-red velvet slip dress, its hem trailing across the dark carpet like a wound deliberately drawn out long.

On her slender ankle sat an out-of-place waterproof medical patch.

The spot was exact, the very place where the rose tattoo had been in the video.

Adrian's once-gentle expression turned cold.

He set down his knife and fork and reprimanded her out loud, in front of both sets of parents.

"Punctuality is the first threshold of scholarship. If you can't even show up on time, don't bother coming to the observation tower tomorrow."

Selena bit her lower lip, her eyes rimmed red, staring at him without moving.

The laughter at the table cut off at once, and even the clink of silver forks against china turned grating.

I instinctively wanted to smooth things over, but the napkin on my lap slipped off.

I bent down to pick it up.

The tablecloth hung down, and everything went dark for a moment.

In that dimness, the phone screen on Adrian's knee lit up.

The sender was labeled "Non-Compliant Sample."

The message popped up, only part of it showing in the preview:

"The patch is on. Did Eve see it just now?"

In that instant, even my breath stopped.

Adrian's eyes swept down over it, his fingertip hovering above the screen, then slowly drew back.

He turned the phone face-down, as if nothing had happened, and picked his silver fork back up, placing a piece of deboned fish onto my plate.

"Eve, eat more. You've gotten too thin lately."

He lifted the fish, picked out the bones, set it on my plate, every motion so steady you couldn't fault it.

But suddenly I couldn't tell who he'd perfected that practiced ease on.

I looked at the fish on my plate and didn't touch it.

I slowly pushed the plate aside and stood up.

"I feel a little nauseous. This fish might be bad."

I looked into Adrian's startled eyes, my voice calm.

"Enjoy your meal, Professor Hall. I'm heading back."