e quiet of the hospital's underground garage, forcing herself to take slow, deep breaths. The

she emerged from the concrete darkness into the bright Gen

Montessori school. She cut the engine and walked towards the playgroun

the monkey bars, his laughter echoing across the yard. Mason, her quiet obse

hing himself at her legs like a miniature cannonball. "The

m up, but a wave of exhaustion from the long hours in surger

of fatigue in her eyes. He wordlessly took her heavy handbag, a

ons, the way Mason's brow furrowed in concentration-it was all him. The ghost she had run from wa

now," she said, her v

ept for emergencies-began to ring. It was Dr. Coleman again. She hesitated, then, not wa

irector's obsequious tone. It was deep, resonan

urn to the hospi

quest. The voice of a man

ill had the power to stop her heart. The air thickene

th his cube. His sharp eyes darted from th

nch accent she sometimes used with difficult foreign patients. "Monsieur, this is not Wall Street.

us chuckle. "I can offer you ten times your annual salar

e, twisting in an old wound. The

ago. It can't now." The words slipped out before she could stop them-a ghost of the past bleeding through her ca

finger stabbing the screen. She

silent for a

g blue eyes wide in the rearview mirror. "Wa

reassuring smile. "No, sweetie. No one is g

knuckled grip on the steering wheel, his small brow furrowed in that famil

nected call on the phone, his face a thunderous mask. The sh

rs ago, he had been married to Vivian. Four years ago, his wife had walked out of his life without a trace. A

had to be a coin

ining that Dr. Vivian was a genius, but n

ridiculous accent... it stirred something in the deep recesses of his memory. A faint, absurd echo of another woman's pride. A

dge the thought. It was fatigue. T

"Ster," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Maybe she

ession softened. He put an arm around her, his focus shiftin

promise you, by the end of the night, that doc

en's over Kara's shoulder. He gave a su

t. It was time for