I showed up at the hospital to surprise my husband during his shift. But the second one of his coworkers saw me, all the color left his face. Then his eyes filled with tears. “He hasn’t said a word to you, has he?” Ben and I had been married eleven years, and for every one of those years, I had shared him with the hospital. He was a remarkably gifted surgeon.

Please remember I love you both more than life itself.”

With shaking fingers, I opened the tracking app on my phone.

His blue icon wasn’t at the freight warehouse, and it wasn’t at the cemetery either.

The marker sat in front of an address in Highland Crest, the most exclusive hillside neighborhood in the county.

I knew the street name right away from a yearly hospital gala we’d gone to years before.

It was the private home of Dr. Gregory Walsh.
PART 7