The clinic was supposed to close at six.

My appointment had been the last one on the schedule—a routine follow-up that should have taken fifteen minutes. The waiting room emptied while I was still in the exam room. When Dr. Harlan Cole finally pushed the door open, the hallway beyond him was already dark.

He was forty-six, tall, broad-shouldered, the kind of quiet authority that made nurses straighten their posture when he walked past. I had seen him twice before. Both times he had been professional, efficient, slightly distant. Tonight something in his eyes was different.

“Miss Caldera. Sorry for the delay. The previous consult ran long.” He closed the...