Antonio's face went still.
"She was five days without it," Dimitri said. "Her body gave out. She stopped breathing properly for nearly two minutes. If the man she was with had been a little slower, a little less careful, she would be dead."
"I wasn't told that."
"No."
"The seizure was short?"
"Short enough." Dimitri's jaw tightened. "She is eight years into a dependence you built, and she nearly died of it because someone stopped the supply. Not you. Not Lorenzo. The man she ran to kept her alive."
"The man she ran to," Antonio said.
"He is the one who found out what was wrong with her."
Antonio was silent. He picked up the pen and turned it once between his fingers, then set it down again.
"The one thing I did not account for," he said at last, "was a man who would take her out of reach."
"You didn't account for a lot of things."
"I accounted for you."
"Did you?"
