“I’m so glad you’re here!” Shannon blurted as Izzy appeared in the doorway of her room. Pointing at the television screen, she exclaimed, “Look at this!”

Izzy hurried in and flopped down on the unoccupied bed and peered up at it. “What is it?”

“It’s a TV show where this English guy annihilates these chefs. He just grabbed a whole plate of risotto and threw it across the room!” Izzy pushed out a belly laugh, and Shannon scooted to the edge of the leather recliner and shushed her. “Seriously. Look at this guy. This woman behind him is still single, and he just told her she’ll never find someone to love her if she looks like a dowdy Amish schoolteacher with the discriminating taste buds of an alpaca!”

Izzy snickered and lounged across the width of the bed, propping up on her elbow. “Yeah, he’s made a whole career out of being horrible.”

“And somebody gave him a show?”

“People love him. Go figure.”

“I think I’ll stick to my classics,” she said, flipping off the television and setting the remote on the table beside her. “Guess what. I might be going home in a couple of days.” She hesitated and then chuckled. “Home. That sounds strange.”

“Do you feel like you’re ready?”

“If by ready you mean throwing my cane on the floor and sprinting for the exit, then yes. I’d say I’m ready.”

“I was thinking I might take you,” she suggested. “Maybe stay with you for a couple of days while you get your feet under you.”

“Izzy, you don’t need to do that,” she said, her hand on her heart. “But that’s so sweet of you to even think of it.”

“Luca will be fine with the boys. And my sister lives three blocks away if he needs any help. Do you remember Carmen?”

Shannon batted away the cobwebs between her and Izzy’s family, but she couldn’t quite fix on anyone named Carmen. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Sometimes I don’t even remember her,” she joked. Her gaze darted toward her friend. Izzy’s nose wrinkled and amusement danced in her eyes. “Besides, I’d love a little minivacation from Luca and the kids. As long as you don’t call my name every forty-five seconds, it will be like Club Med.”

“Iz—”

Izzy hopped up from the bed and crossed the room, squatting in front of Shannon’s chair until their faces met at the same level. “I’ve missed you, Shannon. I really want to spend some time with you and make sure you have everything you need. Let me do this, okay?”

Shannon’s heart melted a little bit and she nodded. “’kay.”

Izzy squeezed her hand and smiled. “I can help catch you up on all the reality television you’ve missed.”

“Because I’m such a big fan,” she replied dryly.

“Giiirl! I’m going to school you on the joys of reality TV if it’s the last thing I do.”

“Isn’t that an oxymoron?” Daniel said as he appeared out of nowhere carrying two large white bags. “Joys of reality television?”

“Hey, Doc!” Shannon said, suddenly feeling buoyant and deciding to credit Izzy for cheering her up.

“Wait until you see what I have here,” he said, dragging the wheeled table behind him.

“You don’t have to tell me what you have,” she exclaimed. “I can smell it!”

“The nurses tell me you’ve done very well on solid food for the last few days, so I thought the time might have come for trying a—”

“Cheeseburger!” she squealed.

“A cheeseburger,” he repeated. He and Izzy exchanged grins. “There’s one for you here, too.”

Izzy rubbed both hands together. “Oooh! Thank you, Daniel.”

He set up the table between them and poured out a bag of fries on a folded paper napkin, and he smacked Shannon’s hand when she reached for one. He leaned down and looked at her with stern determination coloring his stubbled features.

“Now listen to me. I don’t want you to make me sorry I did this, all right?”

“I won’t.”

“You eat very slowly.”

“’kay.”

“And when you’ve had enough, stop. Izzy can always wrap up the rest and Angela will store it in the fridge for later, all right?”

“Yes.”

He raised an eyebrow and considered her answer before turning toward Izzy. “You’ll make sure, right?”

“Think of me as The Cheeseburger Gestapo.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” he said. Turning to go, he stepped behind Izzy’s back and mouthed to Shannon, “I like her.”

She giggled. “Thanks for the grub, Dr. Petros.”

“Have a good evening, ladies.”

The moment he’d gone, Izzy sat down on the other side of the table. “You still call him Dr. Petros?”

“I noticed you called him Daniel. That’s kind of familiar, isn’t it?”

“Edmund introduced him as Daniel, and I guess …”

“So he really was close with Edmund,” Shannon remarked.

“The two of them became great buddies, I guess. But I think you should probably start calling him by his first name too, girl.”

“Oh, I couldn’t. He’s my doctor.”

“A little more than just your doctor, I’d say.”

“No,” she said, confused and shaking her head.

“I met his assistant the other day. She told me Daniel used to spend his lunch and dinner breaks sitting in here with you, watching TV and reading to your ol’ comatose self. Edmund asked him to.”

“Really?”

“Besides, I’m guessing he wanted to spend a little time with you now that you’re awake too.”

“What do you mean?”

“He didn’t know I was here with you, Shannon. But he brought two cheeseburgers, didn’t he?”

She gazed at the burgers and fries on the table between them, her mouth open and ready to respond; but nothing came to her.

“That’s right. A little dinner with the pretty coma girl, maybe a movie afterward. I’d say Dr. Daniel thinks of you as a little more than just his patient.”

Shannon didn’t know what to think about that. She shook her head as if to clear it. “Hey. Don’t call me a coma girl. And check that bag to see if he brought any ketchup.”

Daniel leaned back into the desk chair and closed his stinging eyes. He’d lost count of how many patients he’d seen that day on hospital rounds. He only knew he’d managed to see every one of his own patients and another twelve of Josiah’s so that his friend could fly to Tulsa for a conference. Thursday was always his longest day, but the added responsibilities and unavoidable delays had caused a two-hour lag in crossing town toward the Draper facility to make his usual Thursday night rounds.

Mr. Osterhaas had been languishing in a coma for nearly a year, and he’d died just half an hour before Daniel could get there to look in on him. Now came the unenviable task of calling his daughter. Daniel had long ago stopped trying to wish away that one aspect of his job at Draper. It was an unfortunate necessity when caring for long-term patients.

Once the call had been made, and the obligatory—but sincere, just the same—regrets delivered, Daniel closed his eyes again and said a prayer for the Osterhaas family. He’d had many conversations with Diana, the man’s grown daughter, so Daniel felt confident that she would come to realize her father had finally reached a joyous reward; a fact that seldom cushioned the immediate blow of the loss of a loved one. But he knew, in time, Diana and her family would embrace that fact and allow it to comfort them.

In search of a happier note than the one on which his day had finally ended, Daniel removed his white cotton coat and hung it on the back of his office door. Sliding into his black suede and leather jacket, he made his way down the hall toward the elevator. Instead of pressing the lobby call button, he pushed the large number 4 and eagerly awaited.

“What are you still doing here?” Angela asked him as he passed the desk.

“I had to call Diana Richfield about her father.”

Angela saw the weariness on his face. “Anything I can do for you, Dr. Petros?”

“Not a thing. I’m just looking in on Shannon Ridgeway before I head out.”

The silence that followed came as a shallow relief as he left her behind him and continued down the corridor. It wasn’t like he could explain exactly why Shannon came to mind immediately following the desire for something happier than a dead coma patient and his grief-stricken daughter on the other end of the phone line. He wondered if the answer resided in the fact that Shannon had been comatose for nearly ten times as long as Mr. Osterhaas with no hopeful prognosis, and yet she’d somehow still managed to awaken. He’d never had to make that phone call to Mary Winters, never had to hear the gasp of disbelief that evolved into whimpered denials, whimpers into sobs, sobs into wails of heavy-laden grief.

As he turned the corner and stepped into her room, his eager anticipation sank like an anvil to his feet as his eyes took in the sight before him. Shannon was curled into a ball in the recliner, a blanket clutched to her chin and tears flowing down her face.

“Shannon?” He walked softly toward her and sat down in the empty chair adjacent to the recliner she seemed to prefer to the bed. “What’s wrong?”

She glanced up at him somewhat sleepily, her green eyes dark and stormy, and her freckled porcelain face covered with fresh moisture. She couldn’t seem to manage a reply, but she gave him a half-hearted shrug.

“Talk to me,” he insisted. “What’s going on?”

When she didn’t answer him, Daniel retrieved a box of tissues from the bed table and handed them to her before planting in the chair again. Instead of accepting the box, she simply pulled out one tissue and dried her entire face with it. She took another and blew her stuffy nose. He grabbed the waste can and set it on the floor beside her.

“Edmund?” he asked, just above a whisper.

She nodded again, this time gazing into his eyes so deeply that he almost felt it, as she waded into them.

“Is there anything I can do for you?”

She blew her nose again before replying, and she tossed the wadded tissues into the trash.

“I’m so mad!” she exclaimed. “Why did this happen? How could God do this to—” She shook her head and fell silent. Just about the time that he almost reached out and stroked her hair, she growled. “I just can’t believe I’m all alone,” she whimpered. “And what am I going to do now?”

Daniel sighed. “You’re going to take whatever time you need to get stronger, both emotionally and physically. You’ll continue working with the therapists until you’re ready to ease back into life at whatever rate you feel you’re able.”

“No. I mean, what am I going to do?”

He didn’t follow.

“What will I do for a living? They obviously haven’t held my job for me all these years, so where will I work? How will I work? I can’t imagine diving back into my career—no pun intended,” she laughed bitterly. “And anyway, I don’t know anything about technology in today’s world. How would I go back to graphic design without knowing more? I don’t even know what they’re using now. I’m so clearly out of touch. I have to be able to pay my bills and—”

She stopped talking the instant Daniel’s hand touched hers.

“I was going to go over all of this with you when you’re discharged,” he explained, “but you don’t have a thing to worry about. Edmund has left all sorts of provisions for you, Shannon. You still have a home, and actually you have some money to start with. You’re going to be fine until you figure out exactly what you want. My advice to you is to take it very slowly, and wait until you find something you’re passionate about.”

She snickered bitterly. “If that ever happens again.”

“It will. I promise.”

She blew her nose again and tossed the tissue away before she asked him, “How do you know all of this? Just how involved are you in my life, Dr. Petros?”

Good question, he thought. “You can call me Daniel.”

“Oh. Okay. Daniel. Will you help me, Daniel?”

“Of course. In what way?”

She raised her hands helplessly. “In every way. I assume you’ve been managing the money since you even know the phone number to the cleaning service.”

He hesitated, wondering if she’d find the truth off-putting. Or inappropriate. “Yes,” he finally answered. “I’ve been the trustee.”

“And Edmund’s sister?”

He groaned inwardly. Millicent Ridgeway-Kearns had been a topic he’d hoped to avoid for as long as possible. “You remember her?”

She laughed. “Unfortunately, I remember her completely. And I see from your expression that you’ve met her?” she inquired with a sardonic smile, and he nodded.

“Yes. Yes, I have.”

“My apologies.” Extending the box of tissues toward him, she added, “Here. You probably need these as much as I do then.”