SILAS

Forty-five minutes later, the elevator chimed. Caleb burst into the suite, his coat rumpled and his medical bag swinging from his hand. He walked straight past me into the bedroom, dropping his bag on the nightstand with a heavy thud.

"You know, most people just call and say it's an emergency or send an 'emergency' text, Silas," Caleb muttered, already snapping on a pair of latex gloves. "They don't threaten to end my medical career at midnight.”

I didn't answer. I just stood at the foot of the bed, my arms crossed, watching him work. Caleb was hovering over Maya now as I paced the length of the bedroom,...