LITMIR.BIZ

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to do anything to make the situation worse.

      Taking a sip of coffee, she leaned back against the bench, taking in the constant flow of cars. This world was so different from the one she’d left behind in Connecticut. Everything was bigger. The buildings. The traffic jams and construction. Even Central Park itself had seemed to stretch on for ever when she’d looked down on it from the upper floors of the hospital.

      Instead of making her long for the familiarity of her county hospital, the movement and activity here seemed to energize her, making her feel alive in a way she hadn’t felt for a very long time. Maybe some of that was due to being free of Travis. But she wondered if it wasn’t the city itself.

      Her cellphone went off. Glancing at the readout, she saw it was the hospital.

      “Chloe Jenkins here.”

      “Where are you?”

      Brad’s voice. Impersonal. Brusque. Just like it had been ever since they’d come back from the picnic.

      “Central Park. Why?”

      “We’ve got a TTTS. Can you get back here?”

      TTTS... Her brain flashed through the acronym. Twin to twin transfusion syndrome.

      “Stage?” she asked.

      “Three.”

      Not good.

      Although fairly rare, TTTS was restricted to identical twins who shared a placenta. One fetus’s blood was shunted to the other, endangering not only the donor twin but also the recipient, if it progressed past a certain point. “On my way.”

      Dumping her empty paper cup into a nearby trash can, she stayed on the phone as she hurried to the corner to wait for the light to change. A million questions came into her mind. “Did her OB/GYN do an amnio reduction on the recipient twin?”

      Brad’s voice came back through. “Yes, but the problem is still progressing. Coleman wants to do a laser ablation.”

      Wow. If Cade wanted to destroy the blood vessels linking the two babies, things had to be serious. “When?”

      “They’re trying to schedule it immediately, which is why I need you back here. The nurses’ station will be short-staffed otherwise.”

      She would have liked the opportunity to watch the procedure—as Angel’s was one of the few hospitals in the U.S. that offered it—but she was here to help however she could.

      The light changed, and she jogged across the crosswalk. “I should be there in about five minutes.”

      “Okay. See you when you get here.”

      Had she imagined the relief in Brad’s voice? Of course she had.

      As the doors of the hospital swished open a couple of minutes later, and the rush of cool air from the interior hit her, she smiled at the ordered chaos that met her eyes. A pink-haired clown—whose eight-foot height could only be the result of stilts—was busy swaying to some kind of rap music, his real smile almost as wide as the one painted on his face. His reflection gleamed in the mirrors and the polished floors. About ten delighted children had gathered around him, clapping in time to the beat.

      It was easy to forget she worked in a children’s hospital as the tiny patients on the fourth floor were still cocooned in their mothers, dependent on skilled doctors for their very lives. But here on the ground floor everyone was equal, doctors and patients alike.

      A wave from across the foyer caught her attention. Layla, holding the hand of a young cancer patient, who, despite the patchy hair and pale delicate skin, was laughing. Layla put an arm protectively around her small charge as she smiled at Chloe, making an imaginary phone with her free hand and holding it up to her ear. “Call me,” she mouthed.

      Chloe smiled back and gave her a thumbs-up. It was good to have a friend. Especially now.

      The elevator gave a soft ping as it arrived on the fourth floor, but as soon as she stepped out she saw Ginny at the nurses’ station, along with two other nurses. Where was the shortage Brad had talked about?

      Maybe they hadn’t gone to prepare yet. Although they didn’t normally pull nurses from the floor to assist. That job fell to the surgical nurses.

      Brad appeared round the corner with Cade, the two of them in deep conversation.

      Well, at least they were being civil to one another. They both spotted her at the same time, Brad frowning while Cade called out a greeting. “I understand you’re going to observe the procedure.”

      She was? Her eyes went to Brad for confirmation as they drew near. “We don’t get very many of these and I thought you might be interested.” His voice had softened a bit.

      How on earth had he guessed something like that? And why lie about his reason for wanting her to come back? Had he thought she wouldn’t show if he told her?

      Cade said his goodbyes, saying he needed to go scrub for the upcoming surgery.

      Brad glanced down at her with a raised brow. “When I couldn’t find you, I thought something might have happened.” Before she could ask what he meant, he continued, “Something like Travis showing up.”

      Ah, that explained it. Even so, she couldn’t stop the little jump in her stomach that he’d cared enough to keep track of where she was—had been afraid she might need to be rescued.

      She did. But only from herself, evidently.

      “Are you really going to let me observe?”

      “If you want to.” He nodded in the direction Cade had gone. “I had to give him a reason for calling you out of the blue.”

      The jump in her stomach turned into a pogo stick, bouncing between happiness with Brad and irritation with herself.

      “I’d love to watch.”

      “Okay. I’d planned on observing as well, so I’ll take you up. We can grab some coffee on the way.” He started toward the elevators. “I hope I didn’t disturb anything by calling you.”

      “Nope. Just sitting across the street on a bench.”

      He nodded. “I’ve been known to do that myself from time to time.”

      He had? Something in her wondered if he might have sat on the same bench she had. The thought caused that crazy pogo stick to land squarely on the happiness side of the equation.

      “I’ve already had coffee,” she said. “I probably shouldn’t have another cup.”

      “We’ll go straight up, then.”

      The ride in the elevator seemed to take for ever this time. Chloe strained to find something to talk about. “How’s the mother handling the news?”

      He scrubbed a hand along his jaw. “She’d already armed herself with information, so she knew this was a possibility.”

      “No, I mean how’s she handling it?”

      His hand fell to his side and he smiled. “You always were a softie.”

      “Yeah? Well, someone has to be.”

      “Mom is hanging in there. I think her husband is more scared than she is.” He tweaked her hair. “And I always knew your soft outer layer hid a will of iron.”

      If only he knew. That iron core she’d once possessed was now pitted with rust and corrosion. One more hard kick and it would fall apart completely. Which was why she had to be careful with Brad. That kiss had taken its toll on her.

      Was still taking its toll.

      Brad would never knowingly hurt her, though. Not if he could help it.

      But what if he couldn’t? What if she, despite all her best efforts, turned out to be her own worst enemy?

      

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