Jenna from accounting had called her name from the hallway.
Then the carpet had shifted under her feet, the ceiling had rushed toward her, and the world had shut off.
She had always been the dependable one.
At work, she was the senior payroll manager who caught errors before they became disasters.
In her family, she was the daughter who answered calls, transferred money, fixed overdrafts, handled paperwork, and drove across town when someone else panicked over a problem they had created.
At thirty-three, Mallory had built a life that looked steady from the outside.
A modest suburban house.
A husband who loved her quietly and completely.
A job downtown that demanded patience, precision, and a spine.
But with her parents and her younger sister, she had spent most of her life mistaking usefulness for love.
A nurse named Carla came in after Ethan pressed the call button.
She had silver braids pinned neatly back and a manner that made the room feel less like a machine and more like a place where someone was paying attention.
