ALLY FINLEY WAS sweeping up hair from the floor of The Strand Salon when she heard the words that stopped her cold.
“I have a date with Ethan Brady tonight,” chirped a feminine voice somewhere behind her, the overhead fan wafting the scent of hair chemicals and shampoo around her.
They were her words. The ones Ally had been wanting to say ever since Ethan moved into town. But they were coming from another girl’s mouth. That wasn’t totally surprising, she thought as she stared at a growing collection of auburn baby curls from a previous haircut. Ethan had always been popular with the girls at school.
Except that he’d totally flirted with Ally in the peach orchard just the weekend before. He was even considering leaving town with her after Harvest Fest, and they’d talked about meeting last night at Lucky’s. Only he’d been laughing and dancing with another girl.
Risking a glance up from her sweeping, Ally spotted Rachel Wagoner in one of the chairs near the door. Her pink designer purse was perched on the table in front of the mirror. Sleek blond hair fell in a perfect sheet around her shoulders. Rachel was in Ally’s grade and she already had her pick of boy admirers. Why did she have to go after Ethan? Was it Rachel’s mission in life to collect every guy’s heart in Williamson County?
“How exciting!” Lisa, the newest stylist, squealed, mixing up a chemical in a plastic dish with a miniature paintbrush. “I saw you two together behind Lucky’s last night.”
So had Ally. But she’d tried telling herself that Ethan was just being nice. Keeping the broom moving, she swiped the bristles underneath one of the other stylist’s station, her arms itching with the need to scratch her skin. She hadn’t touched her scarred forearms in almost two weeks, but the pain inside her chest was burning so strong that scratching would be the only thing that would release it. At least then, the pain would be outside.
“Excuse me,” she mumbled to no one in particular. She propped the broom in the corner, leaning the handle against a framed cosmetology license for the salon’s owner. “Be right back.”
“You okay, hon?” one of the older stylists, Trish, asked as Ally hurried toward the staff bathroom. Trish had big, overdone curls that must have been popular a long time ago and wore cat-eye make up every single day, but she was sweet and Ally liked her.
“Fine.” She tried to smile, but her lips wouldn’t turn that way. “Just a cramp, I think.” She clutched her stomach, hoping that would buy her some time in the bathroom.
“There’s some Midol over the sink,” Trish called after her. “A big, industrial-size container. We consider that a business expense here, you know.” The woman in Trish’s chair laughed with her, their voices fading as Ally pushed open the door marked Employees Only and stalked through the empty break room past the washer and dryer.
Ethan was going out with Rachel.
The hurt stabbed her so hard that a sob escaped her throat as she flung open the private bathroom door and locked it behind her. She needed to talk to Gram. Her grandmother was smart about stuff like this. She would know what to do.
Ally was so rattled she pressed the wrong digits three times before inputting the correct speed dial key on her cell phone.
Please pick up. Please pick up.
It hurt that Gram hadn’t invited her over lately, but surely she would see Ally’s call coming through and answer her phone? Emotions clogged Ally’s throat, the hurt in her chest spreading with every unanswered ring. Right until Gram’s voice message came on. “Sorry I can’t take your call right now...”
Frustration boiled over and a cry bubbled up her throat as she shoved her phone back in her purse. That sob unleashed more sobs. And more. So many that Ally couldn’t keep them quiet. They raked up her chest in wrenching heaves, leaving a trail of fire inside her.
How could this happen? She’d worked so hard to get good grades, to be a good student, a good daughter and granddaughter, a good freaking everything. What for? No one noticed or cared. She’d busted her ass in high school only to have her parents’ marriage turn to shit, her house become a war zone, her weekend nights spent rattling through the cold silences of the living room or else locked in her bedroom with the stereo cranked so she didn’t have to hear them fighting.
Through it all, she at least had the thought of Ethan. He’d been a friend if not a boyfriend. Now, she didn’t even have that. Because a “friend” wouldn’t flirt with her and then ask out another girl.
Especially not Rachel Freaking Wagoner, who bought her blond by the half gallon and whose parents gave her a Lexus before she’d even graduated.
“Ally?” The sound of her name penetrated the raw sobs as they echoed around the gray tile.
Ally tried to stop long enough to listen.
“Is everything all right, hon?” Trish’s voice came through the door. “Want me to call your mom to give you a ride home?”
A ride home?
Had she been in the bathroom that long? Or had the sound of her crying slipped out into the break room?
Ally turned on a water faucet to mask any noise she was making.
“I’ll be fine. Thanks.” The last thing she needed was her mother showing up here. Her mother who was too perfect to ever say she was stressed. Who took so much pride in her ability to do it all that she expected everyone else to be able to do the same.
“Can I come in, honey?” Trish asked. “You sound awfully sad.”
The worry in Trish’s voice became more obvious. For that matter, Ally was pretty sure she heard other voices in the background, too. Were they all talking about her? About how she was a total loser hiding out in the bathroom while the one person she cared about slipped away for good?
She dug her nails into her forearms. Except this time, they were sticky. Like she’d stuck her arms in a vat of thick hair chemicals. What the hell?
Looking down, she saw bright red covered both arms.
Blood.
She was bleeding—hard—from the scratches she’d already made on her arms. Scratches she’d never be able to hide under her friendship bracelets. There were even a few drops on the floor.
Nausea gripped her stomach. This was bad. Really, really bad. She’d lost more than Ethan. She’d lost control.
“Ally, I’m going to unlock the door, okay?” Trish’s voice came again.
It was only a matter of time before her coworkers in the salon found out what a colossal loser she was. Soon, her mother would know, too. But right now, the sadness leaking out of her in blood and tears, Ally felt more relief than shame. At least now she wouldn’t have to worry about being good.
* * *
THE FINLEY NAME cast a big shadow in this town. Literally.
Nina arrived at Finley Building Supply shortly before noon with a basket of cupcakes and parked under the cooling shelter of the sign overhead bearing the family name. Tough not to think about Mack when she saw reminders of him everywhere. His father had opened this store as a young man and grew the business himself along with a construction company, handing it over to his oldest son when Scott and Bethany married. The structure had been expanded multiple times until the original storefront was now just office space for the big, warehouselike building that welcomed shoppers today.
Locking the truck, Nina hefted the basket of treats and headed toward the main entrance. She surreptitiously glanced around the parking lot, but didn’t see Mack’s car. Her dreams the night before had been full of him, memories of their kiss sparking a longing that had lingered for hours after she awoke. She couldn’t afford another run-in with him until she’d had the chance to think through what had happened between them.
Inside the building, the scent of pine and sawdust put a sharp tang in the air. Sale signs for windows and doors hung low over bins of hardware. At the end of one row, Nina spotted a small forklift backing up, driven by a young man in a hard hat while Bethany directed him.
Hurrying toward them, Nina waved when Bethany looked her way. Bethany spoke into a walkie-talkie and then headed for Nina. Her jeans and white T-shirt, emblazoned with the store logo, hung loosely from her thin frame, as if she’d lost weight recently and hadn’t bothered to shop for her smaller size.
“How thoughtful of you.” Bethany’s eyes went to the basket. “A lot of workers will be thrilled to eat these.” She waved over a young woman who looked like she was taking inventory on a tablet. “Grace, will you put these on the counter in back where the guys will see them between deliveries today?”
Like the last time they’d spoken, Bethany was polite but didn’t seem remotely tempted by the scents wafting from the basket of cupcakes. Not that everyone had to love the bakery treat of Nina’s choice. But truly? Most people did. Nina got the impression not much would put a smile on Bethany’s face these days. Grace, in the meantime, grinned ear to ear as she took the basket.
“I came close to the lunch hour in case I could entice you out of the store for a bit.” Nina tugged her purse strap higher on her shoulder, her red sheathe dress all wrong for a casual day around town. She hadn’t quite calibrated her wardrobe back to small town Tennessee from the Upper West Side.
Which was one of the reasons she wanted to reconnect with Bethany. She could use a friend now as she faced monumental life decisions everywhere she turned. With Gram. With her business. With her living situation.
Funny how, even with all of that to weigh, she found herself thinking about Mack more than anything else lately.
“Really?” Frowning, Bethany checked her watch. “Wow, it’s almost noon. Actually, I have some deliveries coming soon. Would you mind if we sat out back for a few minutes instead? There’s a picnic table, and it’s so nice outside.”
A few minutes? And no food?
“Is it too late to call Grace back with the cupcakes?” As soon as she said it she realized it was rude to give a gift and then ask to eat it. “Kidding,” she covered lamely. “I’d love to sit outside.”
Ten minutes later, they had cups of water from the water cooler and cupcakes that Bethany requested on her walkie even though Nina had tried to fake like she didn’t need one.
Nina devoured a huge bite of hazelnut yumminess while Bethany carefully nibbled the edges of her cupcake where there was no frosting.
“You seem to have a huge amount of responsibility here,” Nina observed between bites, wishing she could have taken Cupcake Romance to the level of success that the store was obviously experiencing. “I can’t believe the size of the new building.”
“We’ve more than doubled it.” Bethany set down her cupcake and glanced back toward the building. A delivery truck was just pulling into one of the loading bays. “I thought at the time working on the new building would bring Scott and I closer. I quit teaching so I could be here full-time.” She shrugged. “But I think, since I lobbied for the expansion, he figured I could handle the added workload. I went from occasional hours to full-time to manager in the course of a year.”
Nina tried to put the pieces together and couldn’t make them fit. “Doesn’t he work here anymore?”
She didn’t mean to pry, but Scott used to be a fixture at the store when Nina lived in town.
“Unofficially? Yes, he comes in and helps with deliveries now and again.” Bethany’s posture turned stiff and she crossed her arms. “But he hasn’t collected a paycheck in years. The owners of the company—Scott and his siblings—only make money if the business realizes a profit, so you can bet I’m motivated to see that we operate in the black. Since I left teaching, the store is our only source of income.”
“You’re obviously doing an incredible job. I wish I had half your business smarts. Maybe I’d still have a bakery business.”
“Well, thank you.” Bethany gave a clipped nod while twisting the antenna on her walkie-talkie. “I appreciate that. I did have a lot of help from Scott when I was starting out. He taught me so much in the early years about what makes a successful business. Although, if I had it to do over again, I don’t think I would have chosen to run a hardware store.”
Nina couldn’t miss the wistful note in her voice.
“If Scott came back to the store, you could open a business of your own.” She remembered the thrill of those early days at Cupcake Romance, setting up all the social-media sites and deciding how the logo should look. Every day had been a new challenge and she’d worked from sunup to midnight for months straight, running on adrenaline and enthusiasm, utterly invested in her dream.
“That would be...amazing.” Bethany came close to smiling. “Amazing but impossible.”
Nina wanted to ask why, but maybe the problems in their marriage were too deep for Bethany to contemplate making any other changes in her life right now. It was a shame that she had worked so hard toward her husband’s dream while the whole Finley family benefitted and she grew resentful.
“Well, I won’t press you about it. But I’ll bet your husband would come back to the store if you chose to do something else. I remember him being here all the time when I was younger. He’s such a hard worker.” Nina had admired that in the whole Finley family. She and Mack had served on student government together long before the days when he’d helped Nina pick peaches for her grandmother’s homemade jam. Mack and Scott both took after their father, a man who had run a business before he ran the town. Their sisters also owned a business, a second-hand boutique in town, turning their love of flea market shopping into a money-making venture.
There was no stopping the Finleys.
Bethany’s smile was tight. “And he still works hard. He helps anyone in town who’s building a house, for example, giving out advice for free that used to be part of the contracting side of the business.” She shrugged. “Between you and me, I think Scott’s been lobbying for that mayor job since the day his father started to cut his hours at the county courthouse.”
Nina’s vision of Scott shifted as she tried to picture the arrangement in their household. Bethany worked twice as hard to get Scott to notice her contribution. Meanwhile Scott seemed content to let her so he could do good works.
“Sounds like being the perfect couple is taking a toll,” Nina said before she edited it in her mind. Crap. “Sorry. What I mean is that you two are both working so hard, making a positive difference in the community. But when you’re striving in opposite directions, it must be hard to reconnect.”
She knew she was oversimplifying. Yet she felt compelled to point out something positive about their relationship. Scott and Bethany weren’t the kind of people who should split up. They had always been such a force to be reckoned with, organizing family reunions or fun-runs to raise money for local families who fell on hard times.
“I’m sure it would be difficult—if we tried.” Bethany’s voice broke, a small sob escaping. “But when we don’t try, of course, it’s totally impossible.” She clamped her lips shut as if to hold back another outburst. Then she stuffed a big bite of cupcake into her mouth.
There was no mistaking the frustration in her voice stemmed from more than anger. It hinted at a deep love and a deep hurt. Because who got that upset about someone they didn’t care about?
Nina weighed her words, not wanting to say the wrong thing.
She must have taken too long, though, because Bethany shook her head and blurted, “I have no right to burden you with my problems when I haven’t seen you in so long, Nina. It’s just that I’m not close to my family and I can’t talk about Scott to anyone at work because, well, he’s the boss here. You know? I would never undermine him like that.” She blinked fast. “I don’t want to chase you off talking about my problems. It was so nice of you to stop by today.”
“I’m glad to see you, too. I used to be so sure you’d be my sister-in-law one day, and maybe a part of me still looks up to you like that.” She reached across the table to give Bethany’s arm a quick squeeze. “I hate that you’re going through such a rough patch right now.”
“This year has been a real wake-up call for me. But I’m sure I’ll find a way to...get through it.” Her shaky smile didn’t seem one bit certain about that.
“I don’t mean to overstep, but have you considered talking to a counselor about it? I’m not close with my family, either, and a counselor helped me deal with some of my issues after I left Heartache.” Nina had visited the counseling office at Manhattan College, working through Vince’s death and her parents’ abandonment in those first lonely years away from Mack. Those events still hurt, but she’d learned how to deal with them better. She took more time making big decisions, waiting to be sure she wasn’t reacting based on emotion.
She hadn’t even peeled out of New York at the first sign of trouble. Not until she’d spoken to her grandmother and found out about Gram’s health did she decide to return home. She’d discussed it rationally with her landlord and made practical arrangements for the furniture.
“I asked Scott to go to therapy with me once, but he’s convinced that counselors are only for people like his mom who have more...overt issues.” Bethany straightened her phone on the picnic table beside the walkie-talkie. Then straightened the walkie-talkie. The stress practically hissed off her.
“Have you seen much of Scott’s mother since Mr. Finley died?” Nina wondered if it was common for her to lock the door when visitors came over. Or if it was just part of her illness. “His loss must have been hard on her. On all of you.”
Had Bethany been the recipient of the same kind of scathing set-downs that Mrs. Finley had given Nina long ago? She couldn’t imagine how difficult it would be to have your husband’s mother be so antagonistic toward you. Her stomach still clenched tight to remember Mack’s mother’s words from that night.
“She’s done better than expected, but her doctor has been monitoring her closely. And while her problems have taken their toll on us, for the most part, we’ve been able to deal with those.” She started to play with her cupcake again, turning it in a half circle and setting it down. Then rotating it another ninety degrees. “The bigger issues are the ones he and I create.”
Nina wished she had answers for Bethany. What if she could have talked like this to her mother before her parents had separated? Would their reasons for splitting have seemed so...thin? Granted, she was no marriage expert. But if you weren’t going to battle hard for a happily-ever-after, why stand in front of the world and God and promise to do just that? Especially when a child was involved?
“What does he say when you tell him how you feel?” She folded her discarded cupcake wrapper and tilted her face into the Tennessee sunshine. It was so beautiful here. In New York, the days were turning cold.
At the thought of New York, she imagined tabloid journalists haunting the corner near her storefront, waiting for news of Olivia, her elopement and the jilted socialite bride. One more love affair gone wrong.
“He doesn’t even hear me.” Bethany’s voice broke but she recovered herself, waving away the offer of a tissue from Nina’s purse. “He gave me lilacs for my birthday last year. Three days late, too, but...lilacs!”
“You don’t like lilacs?” Nina must be missing something.
“I’m allergic!” Bethany’s raised voice was thready and upset. “I had a major allergic reaction to them two years ago and he has zero recollection of that fact. How much more proof do I need of his indifference when he doesn’t even care if his gifts send me to the emergency room?”
“He must have felt bad when he remembered the allergy.” Nina didn’t know what else to say. Men could be forgetful and clueless. But Scott always seemed so well meaning. She wasn’t sure Bethany would thank her for standing up for him just now, though.
“I wouldn’t know how he felt. He was in Nashville with his mom that day. I got the flowers from a delivery truck and went into anaphylactic shock. His sister took me to the hospital and picked up Ally from school.”
Oh, Scott.
Did he have any idea how close his marriage was to imploding? Nina’s heart squeezed tight for both of them. She wanted to ask more, to find out how Ally was doing, but Bethany stood abruptly.
“I’m so embarrassed for talking about me the whole time, Nina. We need a girl date where guy talk is off-limits. But there’s the delivery I was expecting.” She pointed to a tractor trailer just pulling into the parking lot, its smokestack puffing a gray cloud into an otherwise blue sky. “I should really—”
Her walkie-talkie crackled to life, a woman’s voice suddenly blaring from it.
“Mrs. Finley?”
“I see the truck, Grace. I’m coming.” Bethany gave Nina an apologetic look as she got to her feet.
“I’ll let you get back to work.” Nina rose, careful not to split the skirt of her sheathe dress as she hopped off the picnic table bench seat.
Grace’s voice crackled again. “It’s The Strand Salon on the phone for you, ma’am. They said it’s urgent. Ally is hurt and they need you to come down there right away.”
* * *
MACK HATED HOSPITALS.
He shoved through the main doors downstairs at the facility in Franklin, a full half-hour drive from Heartache. He understood why Bethany had brought Ally here after the girl had cut herself—purposely—at work today. But damn it. The scent of antiseptic and bleach always brought him back to the nights as a kid when his mom had an “accident” with her medicine.
Or later, when he’d brought Jenny to this very same hospital.
His phone vibrated—as it had every five minutes with a text from his mother asking for an update. Stalking toward the elevators, he pulled his phone out of his back pocket, tempted to heave the thing across the reception area so he didn’t have to answer it anymore. Didn’t have to pretend everything was okay for his mom’s sake.
“Mack?”
Nina’s voice stopped him. She appeared out of the crowd on his left, her red linen dress and heels making it apparent she hadn’t planned to spend her day in a hospital, yet here she was. Her expression looked as worried as he felt inside.
And he couldn’t deny a rush of relief to see her, even if he still wondered what had gotten into him when he’d asked her out again. She’d always be a restless spirit with notions of the white picket fence and family he’d never be able to fill.
“Hey.” He shoved his phone back in his pocket, another text already causing it to vibrate. “Thank you for coming.”
She gave a jerky nod, a caramel-colored strand of her hair teasing her cheek while the elevator doors swept open and a crowd of people carrying flowers and “get well” balloons rushed to fill it.
“I was with Bethany when she got the call that Ally had—” she gave a helpless shrug “—hurt herself.” She breathed out a shuddering sigh. “I feel so bad for their whole family. Bethany was close to the breaking point even before the call. I drove her to the salon because there’s no way she could have gotten behind the wheel.”
“Thank you. You don’t seem that steady yourself.” Unable to stop himself, he reached for her hand. Squeezed it. “How are you holding up?”
Seeing her fingers wrapped around his helped to settle him even if it didn’t do a damn thing for her. He had to be careful. It was one thing to ask her out to dinner so they could put the past to rest. But having her here, with his family, stirred up so much more.
He wished they wanted the same things. But he’d be leaving Heartache soon and he could never fulfill the longing she had to have a real family of her own. She deserved it after what she’d gone through with her parents, never having siblings and barely having her parents in her life. But Mack’s family had created so many problems for him that he refused to recreate the same situation with children of his own. He’d visited shrinks plenty of times over the years just to be sure his occasional bad days were normal. Level. He wasn’t about to pass on those fears to a kid.
“I’m okay.” She let go of his hand to retrieve some tissue from a leather purse tucked under one arm. “I drove her and Ally here because Bethany didn’t want to call an ambulance, and I didn’t blame her. Ally’s arms had stopped bleeding by then.”
The weight of what his niece was going through him hit him like a semitruck.
“I got a text from Scott.” He didn’t mention the thirty texts he’d received from his mother.
“He beat us to the ER so he was able to help Bethany when we arrived. I stayed down here to wait for you because I didn’t want to be in the way, and I knew coming here would be—” she gestured to the waiting room “—tough.”
Nina must remember him telling her about the nights as a kid when his dad would wake them up so he could drive their mom here. She didn’t know about that darkest of ER visits with Jenny.
“The toughest part is realizing that Ally could be facing the same kinds of issues Mom does.” The elevator doors swished open and an orderly pushed a wheelchair with a smiling young mom holding a newborn wrapped in pink. A dad juggling bags and flowers sprinted out ahead of them, car keys jingling.
“You don’t think—” Nina bit her lip, her gaze lingering on the pink bundle before returning to him. “That never occurred to me. I guess I just figured...I don’t know. Teenage angst.”
Unlike him, who saw mood disorders everywhere he looked.
He nodded toward the stairs. “Do you mind if we walk up?”
“That’s fine.” Nina double-checked her phone. “Ally is waiting for a consultation from a dermatology specialist upstairs, but Bethany said we could meet in the fourth-floor waiting area.”
“Did Ally say much on the ride here?”
“No. The ride was so silent I intruded with babble just to make noise or make it less awkward. But then I thought maybe I was the only one who felt really awkward.”
“There’s a lot of silence going around in that house.” He reached in front of Nina to shove open the door to the stairs, the scent of her vanilla fragrance stirring memories in spite of the hellish day. Didn’t it figure she would smell incredibly edible?
His phone vibrated. He cursed.
“If you need to take it in private,” Nina offered, “I can meet you upstairs.”
“It’s not that. It’s Mom.” The door fell shut behind them and they started to climb. Mack withdrew his phone again and checked the message. “She’s had a rough year since Dad’s death and I’m...” He blew out a pent-up breath. “I’m not Scott. I can’t provide constant reassurance. I just—can’t. I’ll send her a note when we get upstairs.”
Nina was quiet.
“I know that makes me a heel.” What decent guy ignored his own mother?
“God, no,” she confided, her frankness something he’d always enjoyed about her. “I can totally identify with drawing boundaries when you have a strained relationship with your parents. I just didn’t realize you’d reached that point with your mom.”
Long ago. Mack had left town before his mother had found the right mix of medications that seemed to be helping her more lately. But unfortunately, he hadn’t found a new, healthy way to relate to her. Avoidance had become his go-to coping mechanism.
“You remember she ended up in the hospital after Vince’s accident.” One of many reasons he never could have gone to New York with her.
* * *
NINA TRIED NOT to let her jaw hit the floor at Mack’s comment. Had he honestly just said that?
“Of course I remember. That was one of many things I blamed myself for in those months after we broke up.” She’d been devastated when he’d told her his mom had been hospitalized. That was in the first few weeks after Nina had left town, when they’d still been speaking.
“Why would you blame yourself?” He halted on a step. “You must have known she had problems long before that, even if I never talked about it.”
Mack had never talked about himself, his emotions, or his family. To a grown woman, that would have been a red flag. For Nina, she’d been too caught up in all the good stuff they shared to think about what they didn’t.
“I was eighteen. I tended to believe everything was my fault,” she backpedaled, not ready to talk about the argument she’d had with his mom before she left town. He had too many other family concerns to deal with today. “I remember thinking at that exact moment—when you told me she’d been admitted—that you were never coming to New York with me.”
That had been devastating enough. But it had been far worse to imagine she’d played a role in pushing his mom over the edge when they’d argued.
“That wasn’t the main reason I didn’t get to New York.” Mack’s boots thudded heavily on each stair as if the weight of old grief dogged his steps even now. “If it had just been my mom...”
He trailed off and she guessed all the ways he might fill in the blank. Logically, she understood the aftermath of his best friend’s death had been traumatic. That she should have been stronger for him instead of expecting him to be there for her. She’d been selfish. Self-centered.
And eighteen.
“I know it was more complicated than that. I just meant—”
“Jenny miscarried Vince’s baby two days after the accident.” He hit the top step on the fourth-floor landing but paused before he opened the door. “I’d promised I wouldn’t share her secret back then because she was eighteen and scared to death, but she came to terms with that a long time ago. She wouldn’t mind me telling you now.”
Shock glued her feet to the floor. In all these years, she’d never guessed. Never suspected there might be something so...significant that had drawn Jenny and Mack together. Her picture of the past reshuffled like a deck of cards in an electric dealer, the placement of all the pieces shifting too fast to comprehend.
“I had no idea.” Even as new understanding dawned, finally giving her insight into everything that had happened since she left town, she also felt the sting of hurt that Mack had willingly chosen to keep her in the dark after all that they’d shared. He’d chosen Jenny over her. “I’m so sorry you had to bear that.”
“It felt like the right thing to do at the time, and it was a lot worse for Jenny.” He met her gaze evenly. Stoic even now. Until he blinked slowly. Shook his head. “But I can’t help remembering it today because I brought her to this same ER. The whole thing happened two floors down.”