“We will take care of that,” Margaret said. “But first, we must finish the legal clean-up.”

She stood up, smoothing her skirt, and closed the folder.

“I have security stationed at the elevator bank on this floor,” she said. “No one gets in without my approval.”

“Thank you, Margaret,” I said.

“Rest now,” she said. “You have won the first battle.”

She walked toward the door, leaving me alone in the dim light of the recovery room.

I turned my head to watch Amelia sleep, her tiny fingers twitching against the edge of her blanket.

I closed my eyes, letting the exhaustion finally take over.

My sleep was deep but restless, filled with the sound of rain and the echo of sirens.

A sharp, metallic chime woke me hours later.

The room was dark, save for the green glow of the heart monitor.

My phone, sitting on the bedside table, was vibrating against the wood.

The screen lit up, casting a harsh, pale blue light against the ceiling.

I reached out, my arm trembling slightly with exhaustion, and picked it up.