She sat alone in the hallway, clutching her grandmother’s purse. Inside it were familiar things, reading glasses, medicine bottles, family photographs, and a folded letter Hannah had never seen before. She almost opened it, then stopped. It felt wrong. Not yet. Not while Rose was fighting for her life. Several floors above, doctors reviewed the results. The diagnosis wasn’t good.
Rose required a specialist and quickly. Unfortunately, the best specialist in the state was booked for weeks. The delay could become dangerous. Meanwhile, across the city, Lucas Sterling was finishing a late meeting when Naomi entered his office unexpectedly. Lucas. One look at her expression told him something was wrong.
What happened? It’s Hannah. His heart instantly dropped. What about Hannah? Her grandmother was rushed to the hospital. Within seconds, Lucas was grabbing his jacket. The meeting no longer mattered. Nothing mattered. Not when Hannah was hurting. 40 minutes later, he arrived at St. Vincent Medical Center. Then he saw her. For the first time in years, there was no distance between them, no coffee shop window, no crowded street, no passing glance, just Hannah alone, broken, terrified.
