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She was quiet as he drove her home. Virat understood. They’d both put in a long, at-least-ten-hour day at the hospital, followed by tonight. “You have tomorrow off?”
Most of the time they kept to the standard Monday through Friday. His department rotated having a surgeon in the department at all hours, especially on weekends. Virat usually had a twelve-to-eight shift that worked well for him.
Fin was on the nine-to-five rotation, assisting Holden-Deane with most of those hours.
“Yes. I have until Monday. I think I’m just going to stay home tomorrow. I haven’t had an at-home day in quite some time. Seems like there is always something lately.”
“If anything happens, you call me. I’m just staying home doing laundry. Watching baseball on the TV. I can be there in two minutes. Even walking.”
She nodded. “Thanks. I don’t want to need a knight in shining armor, but I’m glad you were in the parking lot tonight.”
“Me, too.”
He turned off into her driveway. It wound through the landscaping, giving the illusion her property was bigger than it actually was.
The house was at least four stories and the size of a city block.
It was a huge house just for her. And the butler, who’d referred to her as little missy more than once in Virat’s hearing. He hadn’t realized Fin was quite as alone as she was.
Virat knew exactly how that had felt.
He hadn’t seen in his family in quite a while. His parents were proud of him—he thought—but they weren’t an exceptionally close family.
He was closest to his youngest sister, but he suspected that was mostly her husband’s doing. If they hadn’t been friends, Virat didn’t know that he’d be as involved with Adhira as he was.
He pulled up in front of her front entryway and killed the engine.
Virat’s mother had raised him as a gentleman, and he walked his date to the door, offering her his arm as she maneuvered around a pooling puddle.
The porch light was on. No doubt the butler’s doing.
She reached for the door. Then stopped. Gasped.
“What is it?” He shifted where he could see a bit better.
The door had been gouged. Heavy toolmarks that most definitely not been there when he’d arrived that evening scarred the wood. “Stay here.”
The butler was inside.
“No. I’m going inside. Thomason, he’s inside. He has a suite on the first floor. What if they hurt him?”
“Honey, I don’t think they got in.” The scarring was around the lock, but the door was still secured. She unlocked it quickly.
Virat was going to be the first one in.