Page 115 of Pervade Montego Bay

“So what did you discover?”

“You were aboard theHMSMajestythe day of your wife’s death.”

“Which is documented on the ship’s log.”

“You were placed on compassionate leave immediately.” I turned to face him. “TheHMSMajestysurfaced, and you were transported by helicopter to Germany. From there you caught a military flight back to London.”

He gave a nod, his brow furrowed as he followed my words.

“You arrived at The Royal London Burn Unit just after 9:00 P.M. I imagine you were exhausted. After all, you’d been running war drills for forty-eight hours prior to that and hadn’t slept in days.”

“Not unusual.”

“The doctor stopped you before you went in to see Victoria in the ICU…to prepare you.”

“What the fuck is this?”

“I think I know why you can’t move forward, James.”

He stepped back. “Fuck you for bringing me here and making me replay the worst day of my life.”

“You need to face the truth.”

“How, exactly?”

Closing the gap between us, I shoved him hard. James lost his balance and fell backward into the lagoon, splashing as he went under, fully immersed.

James rose quickly to the surface and pushed himself up, standing chest high in the pool of water. “What was that for?” His face contorted in shock. “Have you any idea how cold this is!”

“I can only imagine.”

He swept his streaming wet hair back from his face. “You’ve lost your mind.”

“I tracked your movement through the hospital,” I called down to him. “Utilizing the archived footage caught on the hospital security cameras. You spent two days sitting beside Victoria in the ICU. She was on a ventilator, barely clinging to life, and so severely burned you didn’t recognize her.”

James still stood where he’d fallen, seemingly riveted to my words, his expression one of anguish.

“They say the unconscious can hear conversations around them. I imagine you talked to her. Comforted her.”

“Why are you doing this?” he asked quietly.

“Because I know.”

He shook his head. “Know what?”

“What happened in your mind.”

“You can’t rewire a person, Xavier, like one of your AIs.”

“An hour before her recorded death, you left Victoria’s side to go to the chapel. I watched you on the security footage.”

He looked away, as though resigned to the fact this story would find its way out into the world—this truth he’d never shared with anyone.

“And you prayed for her…for Victoria,” I said softly.

Though there were no cameras in the chapel, I imagined him kneeling with his hands clenched in prayer, perhaps resting on the front pew as he pleaded with God.

He shook his head in despair.