Miller wakes in the Rocinante’s sick bay, immobilized by tubes and restraints, aching and nauseated under thrust. Naomi explains he and Holden were nearly triaged to hospice, but the ship’s expert system and supplies kept them alive. Miller sees the ravaged Holden in the opposite bed and drifts in and out of narcotic sleep.

Half-awake, Miller overhears Holden confess, “I’m in love with you, Naomi.” Naomi refuses, describing Holden’s history of infatuations and insisting she won’t sleep with him until he knows the difference between love and desire. When Miller rouses, Naomi outlines the damage: lifelong cancer monitoring, Holden’s missing thyroid, Miller’s resected bowel, likely sterility.

They learn Eros has gone silent under quarantine, with no resources for a rescue despite the million-plus residents, especially with a war underway. That night, feverish and sleepless, Miller broods on the killings at Eros, questioning whether he is driven by revenge and imagining Julie beside him.

Holden, also sleepless, admits he killed a man at close range. Miller says the haunting is normal and won’t fade if Holden keeps his soul. After awkward advice about Naomi, they lapse into silence. A course correction shudders through the ship, and Miller, drifting, hallucinates Julie whispering comfort.