eets with a silent, predatory grace. The q

ith cold sweat. Dr. Sterling. She had no idea who this person was. If the clinic was too adva

ght hand tapped a silent, rhythmic beat against his knee. He was calculating,

dsome, a face carved from marble and ice. This is

turned into a quiet, tree-lined street in Midtown, stopping before a discr

lished brass plaque next to the doo

dward exited first, walking into the

that felt more like a luxury hotel lounge

Dr. Sterling is

number. "Blake, I'm here. I have someone with me who need

ed, and a man in a white coat emerged. He was t

is eyes landing on Clare, who stood just behind Edward. His profes

la

York, it had to be him. Blake Sterling. Her senior at Columbia. The man she h

name a ghost on her lips.

from her to Edward and back again, confusion clo

ted the way Blake looked at Clare, the unguarded concern in his

wered for her, his voice colder than before.

ed at Clare, his eyes filled with a thousand

t the plush Persian rug, giving a small, mise

p with impatience. "Can we begin, Dr. Sterling?" H

nor snapping back into place like a shield. "Of

n room, the door closing behind them

trasound machine, he spoke in a low voice. "Clare, if you're in s

she cut him off, her voice

nd whisked the vial away.

mach and the probe began to move, Clare he

th

he blank screen,

y and confusion. "Clare," he said softly. "There's nothing here. You're not pregnan

lready out. Of

resence of someone who knew the real her. Her eyes bur

d instinctively grabbing his arm. Her vo

she could see the war raging within him. His ethics, his f

or swu

lare's hand, clenched tightly around Blake's arm. The