Chapter 3

"Fine," Director Voss said over the line.

"Come down to the medical station to sign the clearance. And since you're coming in, cover Kian's shift. He just took emergency leave."

"I'm on my way."

I needed to go to the clinic anyway. My leg was still bleeding.

In the dispensary, a nurse sterilized the jagged tear across my shin where I'd hit the concrete and wrapped it in heavy gauze. The pain was a dull, constant throb pulling at my nerves.

I pulled out my phone to distract myself.

My social media feed was flooded.

Elowen had just posted a photo.

The four of them—herself, Draven, Maren, and Torin—smiling around a candlelit table. The caption read: The family, finally whole.

Torin and Bryndis had both liked and commented with hearts.

I scrolled down, realizing they had lifted the privacy blocks they'd kept on their accounts for years. A bitter timeline of my marriage unfolded before my eyes.

Last month, Draven had told me the syndicate required him up north to handle a dispute. The photos showed him holding Maren on a boat in Iceland, watching the Northern Lights.

Last summer, I had begged Draven to take a week off so we could take my parents to a quiet resort. He told me the territory was too unstable for him to take a vacation. His feed showed he had spent half a month at a private coastal villa with Maren and her parents.

He didn't lack time. He just spent every second of it on someone else.

I locked my screen. The tightness in my chest was so absolute I could barely draw breath.

"Dr. Veyra," a nurse called out, rushing into the room.

"The guest in the VIP suite is having chest palpitations. They requested you specifically."

I stood up. Leaning my weight onto my good leg, I limped down the corridor.

Before I even reached the door, a wall of people blocked my path.

Torin stepped forward, his eyes narrowed in cold warning.

"Don't pull any of your stunts in there, Lira. No medical tricks just to get back at her."

They stood side-by-side—my brother, my mother-in-law, my best friend—guarding the door like I was a stranger who had come to tear their family apart.

Not one of them looked down at the thick, blood-spotted bandages wrapped around my leg.

I swallowed the bile rising in my throat and pushed the door open.

Draven didn't look at me. He shoved the EKG prints and bloodwork charts into my hands. I read through the lines of data, my clinical training kicking in automatically.

"Her vitals are perfectly fine," I said, my voice empty of emotion.

"It's just minor neurasthenia caused by a lack of sleep and mild anxiety."

Maren whimpered, pressing her face against Draven's chest. Her fingers clutched the lapels of his suit.

"I was just so alone overseas for so long. Every time it gets dark, I panic. I just can't sleep."

Draven wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her closer.

"It's all right. You'll never be alone in the dark again. Whenever you call, day or night, I'll be there."

My hand, holding the pen over a prescription pad, stopped mid-air.

"I'll prescribe a mild sedative," I said quietly. "Does she have any known drug allergies?"

The words barely left my mouth before Draven answered.

"Cephalosporins. And she can't have anything with mango or peanuts."

He rattled it off like a litany, drilled into his memory. He knew her medical history by heart, yet just a few hours ago, he had promised to take me out for seafood—the one thing that would send me into anaphylactic shock.

Elowen pushed past me into the suite, her voice full of fussing warmth.

"Exactly. Maren's stomach is incredibly delicate, Lira. Make sure you only prescribe the gentlest dosage. I'm going to have the chef make her a restorative bone broth tonight. Write down exactly which spices I need to avoid."

They bounced off each other in perfect harmony. A picture-perfect family caring for their most precious member.

I didn't say a word. I finished writing the script, ripped it off the pad, and handed it to the nurse.

Then I turned around, placed my hand on the wall for support, and slowly dragged my injured leg out of the suite.

Bryndis and Torin eagerly brushed past my shoulders to get inside.

I hadn't made it ten feet down the hall when a burst of warm, unrestrained laughter spilled out from the open door behind me. Maren's soft giggle, Torin's loud cheering, Draven's low chuckle.

I dug my nails into my palms until they nearly bled. The pain in my chest was a blunt, relentless knife.

My phone buzzed a double-chime.

I pulled it out. A text from Director Voss.

[Your clearance just went through. The first trauma-relief deployment leaves the day after tomorrow. Pack your bags.]