ptic. It was a sharp contrast to the sweet, cloying scent of the vine

ice gentle but firm. "We were

ul it almost brought me to my knees. "Oh,

ion didn' t change. H

His brain was deprived of oxygen for a critical per

't make sense.

n?" I asked, my voi

body is alive, but the part of his brain that makes him Caleb...

umb. Gone. My son was gone. His laugh, his questions about the stars, the way he would hold my hand. All of

d work. I kept him in a simple house on the edge of my own property, pretending we were poor. If we had been living in the main residence, if eve

h my son about lif

t was a cold, clear fury. Barney Fowler did this. His nephew, Wesley, who I

were goin

s were steady now. I dialed a

tion. I need you to assemble the best neurological team in the country. Fly them to St. Mary'

the other end. "Ms. Johns.

ling farmhand was gone. The own

rm, watching the rhythmic rise and fall of

h on his face. Beside him was his weaselly nephew, Wesley. And beh

finger at me. "The woman who assaulted m

matter of your assault on our head of security and the significant reputational damage you've caused t

ing to. He thought he was corn

o a trap he couldn