Jamison Ludwig was caught off guard by the question. “What could I possibly be hiding from you?”

“Are you sure there’s nothing?”

He chuckled, giving her a straight answer. “If you want to ask something, just say it. No need to beat around the bush.”

“It’s nothing, really,” Ivy said, hesitating. “It’s just that I feel like I’ve come to rely on you so much, and everything’s moving so fast… I’m scared that if I fall head over heels, it’ll turn out you’re just playing games with me, and then I’ll…” She pulled a face and gave a little shrug.

The meaning was clear: if I go all in and find out later that you have some hidden agenda—that you’re not serious—then I’ll be the one who loses everything.

Jamison understood exactly what she meant. A smile tugged at his lips. “You’re overthinking it. If I were just fooling around, would I be risking my neck for you?”

“Well, that’s true.” Ivy nodded, convincing herself to drop the thought.

“Try to get some sleep. Rest is the best medicine.”

“I can’t sleep. Lying like this is making my whole body ache.” He frowned, trying to suppress the discomfort. “How much of the IV is left?”

Ivy glanced at the bag. “Not much. Just hang in there a little longer. When it’s done, I’ll help you sit up. You’ll feel better then.”

“Alright.”

Ivy lowered her head, fiddling absently with her phone, but her mind was still on the conversation she’d just had. What if, once Jamison’s head cleared, he started getting suspicious?

Especially since Dale had messaged him earlier. With Jamison’s keen mind, once he saw that text, he’d probably put two and two together about why she’d been asking those questions.

No way. She had to get rid of the “evidence.”

After a moment’s consideration, Ivy almost laughed at herself. Suddenly, she frowned and let out a dramatic sigh. “Ugh.”

Sure enough, Jamison immediately asked, “What’s wrong?”

“My phone’s dead—about to shut off any second. I was just about to call Katrina and let her know I’m coming back tomorrow.”

She played her part perfectly.

Jamison replied, “You could ask the nurse or a doctor for a charger. They probably have one.”

“I will in a bit. But do you have Katrina Lester’s number?”

“I do.”

“Then let me use your phone to call her real quick.”

“Sure.”

Ivy grabbed his phone from the nightstand. “You need to unlock it.”

Without waiting for him to take the phone, she stepped closer and took his right hand. “Which finger?”

“Thumb.”

Jamison had no suspicion at all and let her guide his thumb to the sensor, unlocking the screen.

Ivy found Katrina’s number in the call log and dialed, then walked away from the bed, out of Jamison’s line of sight.

“Hello, Katrina—it’s me. My phone died, so I’m calling from Jamison’s.”

On the other end, Katrina didn’t think much of it, chatting casually. “What’s up? Change of plans?”

“No, just wanted to let you know I’ll be back tomorrow.”

As she spoke, Ivy, now hidden from Jamison’s view, lowered the phone and pulled up his messaging app.

There it was—Dale Sullivan’s message, still unread. She spotted the red notification dot right away.

Ivy quickly deleted the newest message.

Now, Jamison would have no idea Dale had messaged him, or that she’d seen it.

Katrina sounded puzzled on the phone. “Didn’t you already tell me you’d be back tomorrow? Why call again just to say that?”

Ivy didn’t answer; she was too busy scrolling through Dale Sullivan’s chat history with Jamison.

And there, she made a new discovery.

This Dale Sullivan was, in fact, the same “Dale” from the “Stonks Only Go Up” group chat.

What’s more, Dale had known about her and Jamison getting their marriage license the very day it happened.

He’d even asked Jamison if he could mention it in the group.

Jamison had told him to keep quiet.