The Dead Ex-Wife's Spectacular Surgeon Comeback

icer offered

ed silhouette being winched from the gray Atlantic waters. He

ck. It smelled of salt, diesel, and so

ok

d dressed in a tuxedo that was now wrinkled from a sleepless night.

id, his voice low and heavy with practi

ut they didn't penetrate the fog in Julian's mind. He felt

ialized at his side, his face pal

than began, his voi

y, were shot through with red. The look was so savage, so utterly devoid of

ed in his head.

le mansion. Her green eyes, usually so full of

egret thi

t was just another one of her dramatic attempts to get his att

hoing with the relentless crash

sion grim. "We're suspecting fault

is voice was a raw scrape, a soun

but did nothing to warm the chill that had settled deep in his bones. He refused to leave. He just

. The one he'd bought her as a second-anniversary gift

things he had spent y

The ridiculously bright tie she'd bought for his birthday, which he'd never worn. The

h his chest. It wasn't grief. Not ye

ni

lvaged hull. He carried a small, sealed evidence bag. He handed it to the le

a mask of professional

re had warped it slightly, but the inscription on the inner

Fore

eddin

he world tilt on its axis. The sounds of the beach-the gulls, t

e thread of his

rollably. He brushed the cold plastic of the bag, a

ep, his body suddenly

hed for hi

hinking motion. His knees gave out. He

as only the sound of

It was a raw, guttural roar of pure agony, the sound of a man bei

ne Si

wi

was