Chapter 1
Prologue: The Unsent Moonlight
On the rooftop of Loneville Hospital, the wind at three in the morning was biting cold.
Vernon Janke leaned against the railing with an unlit cigarette between his fingers. His phone screen flickered on and off repeatedly. In his photo album were shots of Yulianna Quesnel's pale face in her hospital bed, snapshots of them sketching by the sea back in college, and all the memories of youth he had hoarded for eight years.
He started drafting a post, picking a photo of the moon outside Yulianna's hospital window. He kept tweaking the caption until he finally settled on a single line: [Being by your side feels just like old times.]
He stared at the screen for a full ten minutes with his finger hovering over the "Post" button. In the end, he withdrew it and set the post to "Visible only to me."
He had forgotten that Yvette Waldner was still lying on the living room couch, waiting for him to come home.
The girl who had loved him for four years and regarded him as her whole world was clutching his work phone at that very moment. She was going to close the work calendar he had forgotten to close, only to stumble upon those words and that moon that didn't have anything to do with her.
Yvette's hand froze in midair. Four years of love were shattered into pieces in that instant.
*****
At two in the morning, the excruciating pain of acute gastroenteritis felt like a malicious, invisible hand crushing Yvette's internal organs.
Leaning against the wall, she shuffled step by step to the garage. Her fingertips were trembling as she started the car. At this time of night, she would always call Vernon immediately. Even if he was on the night shift, even if all she heard was him saying, "Don't worry, I'll be right there," it would put her mind at ease.
But tonight, she couldn't even bring herself to unlock her phone.
The car sped along, running two red lights, before finally coming to a stop in front of the emergency entrance at Loneville Hospital. Yvette held onto the car door and took a long moment to catch her breath before gathering her strength to walk into the emergency lobby.
"Name, age, and are you accompanied by a family member?" The medical staff tapped away briskly on her keyboard without looking up.
"Yvette Waldner, twenty-six, no." Her voice was as whispery light as a feather, and she looked as pale as paper. Her hair was plastered to her forehead due to the cold sweat.
The medical staff looked up, momentarily taken aback. "Aren't you Dr. Janke's girlfriend? I have seen you at the annual party. Dr. Janke happens to be on night duty tonight. He's in the operating room upstairs now. Shall I ask him to come down?"
"No, thank you," Yvette replied firmly at once. "He's busy with work. Please don't bother him."
The medical staff looked at her determined expression and hesitated, as if she were about to say something. In the end, she proceeded with the usual procedures and paperwork. Then she arranged for Yvette to be admitted to the observation room for an IV drip.
The IV drip trickled slowly, settling into her veins and bringing a cool sensation. Yvette leaned against the headboard, closed her eyes, and replayed that unposted picture caption over and over in her mind.
She had been with Vernon for four years. That was more than 1,400 days and nights. She thought she had long since found a place in his heart.
She remembered all of his dietary requirements, including his preference for a glass of warm milk before surgery and his craving for pesto pasta after every night shift. His preferences had become woven into the fabric of her own life.
And he was indeed a devoted boyfriend. He remembered her birthday and their anniversary. He would have ginger-lemon tea ready for her when she was on her period, and he would drive out to pick her up when she finished late from a photo shoot.
Everyone envied her, saying she had found the perfect partner.
Only Yvette knew that something was missing from this perfection. There was a lack of passion in his eyes when he looked at her, the undisguised tenderness in his voice when he spoke of Yulianna, and the place in his heart that was forever reserved for someone else.
The door to the observation room swung open, and Vernon walked in.
He was wearing a crisp white doctor's coat, and his handsome features behind his gold-rimmed glasses betrayed obvious fatigue at this moment. He walked quickly to the bedside and instinctively raised his hand to touch Yvette's forehead.
"Why didn't you tell me you were sick?" Vernon's voice carried a hint of reproach, yet the underlying concern was unmistakable.
Yvette turned her head away to avoid his touch. Then she replied flatly, "It's just acute gastroenteritis. It's no big deal. There's no need to trouble you."
Vernon's hand froze midair, and the warmth in his fingertips seemed to evaporate instantly.
This wasn't the Yvette he knew.
The Yvette he knew would throw herself into his arms and act coyly when he got home late. She would send him a dozen messages to ask if he was tired when he was working late. If she caught even a hint of a stranger's scent on him, she would demand answers, tears welling in her eyes.
But the Yvette lying before him now was so calm that it made his heart churn with unease.