The drive to the pediatric cardiology wing was a blur of neon streetlights and the rhythmic, frantic squeak of windshield wipers. Julian Vance’s hands gripped the leather steering wheel of his Porsche so tightly his knuckles were white, but he couldn't feel his fingers. He couldn’t feel anything exc

The boardroom of Vance Development felt like the inside of a collapsing lung.

Julian sat at the head of the long mahogany table, staring blankly at the chaotic spread of financial projections, legal threats, and breach-of-contract notices. His CFO, Marcus, was pacing the length of the room, sweati

The photograph burned Julian’s retinas.

*Clara.*

The quiet, unassuming woman who packed Toby’s lunches. The woman who sat in the background at his corporate dinners, nodding politely while Julian bragged about his visionary designs to investors. The woman who had given up her master's degree in