The clinic went quiet after midnight.

Most of the staff had already left. The fluorescent lights in the hallway hummed softly. I finished charting the last patient notes and reached for my bag when the intercom on the desk crackled.

“Miss Kane. My office. Now.”

Dr. Adrian Hale’s voice was calm, low, and left no room for discussion.

I walked down the short corridor to the back office. The door was half open. He sat behind the desk in his dark scrubs, sleeves pushed up to the elbows, a pen still in his hand. The only light came from the desk lamp. It threw sharp shadows across his face. He...