But two nights later, near two in the morning, with a cold rain washing over the city, the door to the room opened without the usual greeting of the night nurses.

Adaira could not see, but she had learned to read the room by sound.

First, the heavy, deliberate stride of Chandler’s shoes — a man who had never once been made to apologize for anything.

Then the quick, nervous tap of Cassia’s heels.

Then the shallow breathing of Dr.

Ellwood.