I hung up the receiver and walked over to the small couch in the corner of the room.

I lay down with my coat pulled over my shoulders, but sleep did not come.

The rain continued to lash against the glass, a relentless, grey background noise.

At 6:30 AM, the first shift change of the morning began in the corridors outside.

I went to the private bathroom attached to my office and splashed cold water on my face.

In the mirror, the purple bruise forming along my collarbone looked angry under the fluorescent lights.

I covered it with a high-collared blue blouse and put on my white lab coat.

My hands were steady, but my stomach felt hollow.

A knock sounded on my office door at exactly 7:15 AM.

I opened it to find my brother Daniel standing in the hallway, his coat damp from the rain.

Behind him stood Uncle Michael, wearing a tailored charcoal suit that looked entirely too formal for a hospital corridor.

Without asking, they walked past me into the room.

Daniel closed the door behind them and leaned his back against the wood.