a ran, her lungs burning. Behind her, the heavy footsteps of t
s would be watched. She needed to fi
into the quieter, more luxurious section of the hospital. The security here was tigh
pure desperation, she saw a door that was slightly
ssing against the cool wood. She took deep, shuddering br
rvey the room. It was a top-tier private suite,
ir. Her eyes were closed, her face a pale, waxy gray
rmed it. It was emitting a single, hig
ac ar
was Matilda Sterling, Demetri Sterling's grandmoth
the need to survive and fend for herself. She had even practiced medicine on the black m
icked shout, followed by the sound of running
If they found her here, now, she would be an int
ace, images of the ocean from her previous l
owed
thought cut through
er movements swift and sure. She checked Matilda's pupils.
Dilated cardiomyopathy leading to acut
d. She grabbed a small paring knife. From her pocket, she produced a disposable li
intricate bun of her hair. It was her true mother's, a keepsake sh
am was coming, but they would be too late, or thei
nto a series of key acupressure points on Matilda's chest, a
e final, crucial insertion, the
Demetri Ster
patient's gown, holding a silver needle poised over the mat
orrified shriek. "Wha
filled with such sorrow in her vision, were now gl
amping around Azaria's wrist like a manacle of steel
s expression didn't waver. She met his deadly gaze with
that moment, a moment no one else had noticed, the flat line that signifie
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