The hospital gala was in full swing, a blur of clinking glasses, string quartet music, and the low, wealthy hum of high-society networking.

Clara remained in the periphery, a shadow in her black dress, moving silently through the glittering crowd. After Marcus left her side to mingle with internat

The penthouse was suffocatingly quiet, the kind of silence that usually preceded a storm. But for Clara Hayes, the storm had already come and gone, leaving nothing but flattened earth and cold clarity in its wake.

She stood in the center of the expansive walk-in closet, her fingers lightly grazing

The wind whipping through the Whispering Pines Cemetery was bitter, carrying the damp, earthy scent of impending rain. It bit through Clara’s dark wool coat, but she welcomed the chill. It grounded her. It reminded her that she was still in her body, even when her mind threatened to drift back to th