Isabella’s pov

I pushed open the glass door of the clinic and the cool air hit my face right away. The waiting room looked emptier than I had ever seen it.

One older woman sat near the window flipping through a magazine, and the receptionist was already packing her bag. Friday before the long holiday weekend. Most people had cleared out hours ago.

“Isabella, you’re the last one,” the receptionist said without looking up. “Dr. Cole is ready for you. Go on back.”

I walked down the short hallway, heart already beating a little faster. Every visit for the past five months I had counted the days in between.

Today...