a ran, her lungs burning. Behind her, the heavy footsteps of t

s would be watched. She needed to fi

into the quieter, more luxurious section of the hospital. The security here was tigh

pure desperation, she saw a door that was slightly

ssing against the cool wood. She took deep, shuddering br

rvey the room. It was a top-tier private suite,

ir. Her eyes were closed, her face a pale, waxy gray

rmed it. It was emitting a single, hig

ac ar

was Matilda Sterling, Demetri Sterling's grandmoth

the need to survive and fend for herself. She had even practiced medicine on the black m

icked shout, followed by the sound of running

If they found her here, now, she would be an int

ace, images of the ocean from her previous l

owed

thought cut through

er movements swift and sure. She checked Matilda's pupils.

Dilated cardiomyopathy leading to acut

d. She grabbed a small paring knife. From her pocket, she produced a disposable li

intricate bun of her hair. It was her true mother's, a keepsake sh

am was coming, but they would be too late, or thei

nto a series of key acupressure points on Matilda's chest, a

e final, crucial insertion, the

Demetri Ster

patient's gown, holding a silver needle poised over the mat

orrified shriek. "Wha

filled with such sorrow in her vision, were now gl

amping around Azaria's wrist like a manacle of steel

s expression didn't waver. She met his deadly gaze with

that moment, a moment no one else had noticed, the flat line that signifie