Audrey had lost a lot once she became entangled with Rowan.
Her hand—once skilled, once certain, once a legendary healer's hand—had been ruined in one of the rogue accidents.
Ruined because she had thrown herself between Rowan and death.
Ruined because she had been foolish enough to love him.
The video on her phone replayed over and over, its soft glow the only light in her dim apartment. She stared until her vision blurred, until the ache in her chest became a pulse, then a throb, then a low animal growl vibrating beneath her ribs. Finally, she forced herself to breathe, gave a bitter laugh, tapped "like," and shut the app.
Eight years.
Eight long years.
And Margaret was thriving.
Danielle too—vibrant, brilliant, shining in the medical world like the rising star Audrey was supposed to be.
Somehow, that eased the guilt that had gnawed at her like a starving wolf.
