But as he pushed open the bedroom door, he froze. His heart hammered in his chest at the sight before him—Helen, standing at the window, fully awake, staring out into the night. Her face, illuminated by the moonlight, was a mask of calm that sent chills down his spine.

“Helen?” he croaked, his voice trembling.

She turned her head slowly, her eyes meeting his with an unreadable expression. “I know, John,” she said quietly.

His blood ran cold. “Know what?”

“Everything,” she replied, her voice steady but filled with a depth of emotion that made him feel small and insignificant.