New York had a way of moving on before anyone was ready.

Even after the storms, the city thrummed lights blinking, people rushing, sirens blending with the heartbeat of a place that never stopped. But for Violet, time didn’t move in rhythm with the city anymore. It slowed. It folded. It pulsed beneath her skin like a faint current she couldn’t switch off.

She stood by the glass window of her office at St. Adelaide, staring at the skyline. The reflection that stared back wasn’t the same woman who had once walked into this hospital years ago hopeful, idealistic, still believing that science could fix the human soul.

Now she...