She stood up the moment I approached and held out her hand with crisp, polite efficiency.

Her dark hair was pulled back into a flawless bun, and her tailored charcoal coat hung neatly over the back of her chair.

“Grace,” she said, shaking my hand once with a firm grip.

“Thank you for agreeing to meet me on such short notice.

Ethan mentioned you were in Denver for a regional medical coordination meeting.”

“I had forty minutes between sessions,” I said, sitting down in the wooden chair across from her.

Natalie folded her arms tightly across her chest and tilted her head as she studied me.