tin Summ

t again,

rman of Summerlin Performance who made professional sports commissioners sweat across negotiation tables. He so

ase," I said rapidly, grabbing my white lab coat and striding out of my office toward the private elevators. "Her name is Rhea. Sh

dward's end, followed by the crash of a porc

through the speaker, raw and trembling with twenty-two years of agonizing gri

r the fourth floor with trembling fingers. "I ran the secondary markers myself ten minutes ago to be certain. She has the rare here

as a senior federal investigator who had joined the bureau for one singular reason: to learn how to track dow

wisted with sudden, violent anger. "Her legal name on the admission form is Rhea Sterling. Her husband is listed as Landon Sterling, captain of

ver the speakerphon

e the face of our biometric sports technology. In fact, if I remembered our last family dinner correctly, William-my eldest nephew and the sharpest sports attorney on t

ike a guillotine blade. "The same Landon Sterling whose publicist has been leak

areer before sunrise," my youngest nephew, Oliver, snarled in the background. As a sports documentary director who

are leaving the estate right now. Ten minutes to the helipad, fifteen to Manhattan. Quentin, get my daughter and my grandc

on it," I

rnity ward, I tucked my phone into my pocket and clutched

with a small boy holding his hand. Even from the side, I recognized Ciaran Whitlock from Oliver's

cond thought. My eyes w

, reassuring bedside manner I had practiced for three decades. I couldn't barge in w

the half-open door

infant tucked into each crook of her arms, was my niece. When she looked up at me with Edward's amber-flecked eyes

on. "I'm Dr. Quentin Summerlin. I apologize for intruding