Chapter 3

Sienna POV: "Dr. Hart, this is my third visit this week, and I just can't shake it." Mr. Pruitt leaned across my desk, his cologne arriving about three seconds before his smile did. "I can't eat. Can't sleep. Can't focus. But the minute I walk in here and see you?" He pressed a hand to his chest. "Every symptom disappears. Doc, I think I'm lovesick." I lowered my pen. "Lovesick." "Feel how fast my heart's going." He reached across the desk for my hand. I caught his wrist first. My thumb found the pressure point between the tendons. Before he could blink, three fine silver needles were in the back of his hand. "Ow! What the hell?" "Mr. Pruitt," I said sweetly, "lovesickness happens to be my specialty. Three needles, guaranteed results. Give it a second." He opened his mouth to complain. His right arm twitched. Then it jerked up on its own, swung in a wide arc, and— SMACK. He slapped himself across the face. Hard. He stared at his hand like it belonged to a stranger. "What did you do to me?" "It's an aversion technique I developed. Pain redirects the attention." I smiled. "Feeling clearer?" His face went from red to purple. "You did that on purpose!" "You came in here the first time with your pregnant wife, Mr. Pruitt." I let the smile drop. "She was on bed rest by your second visit. And you've been back three times since, trying to hold my hand. Did you think I wouldn't notice?" "I'll report you! Assaulting a patient! I'll have your license!" "The director's complaint line is posted in the hallway." I tilted my head toward the door. "But before you call, you might want to turn around." He spun. Two small children stood in my doorway. Same height. Same dark hair. Same storm-gray eyes. The boy wore an oversized Boston Ironclads jersey with a big number 19 on the back, and he was holding up an iPad. The red recording dot was blinking. "Hey, kid! Put that down!" "First of all, I'm not 'kid,'" my son said. "I'm Theo Hart." He held up a second finger. "Second, I started recording when you started smacking yourself. Mommy didn't touch you once. So what are you gonna report? That you're a self-slapper?" A third finger. "And third, I got your whole face. In 4K. Too late to hide it now, sir." Pruitt lunged for the iPad. Theo was already gone. He scrambled up the file cabinet like a squirrel and perched on top, holding the iPad high over his head. "Leave my mommy alone forever," he said, "or this goes on TikTok. You'll be famous by dinner." "You little brat, when I get my hands on you—" "You'd have to catch me first, old man." Pruitt looked at me. At Theo. At the blinking red light. He grabbed his coat and fled. I sighed. "Theo Hart. Off the cabinet. Now." He jumped down, landing in a perfect crouch, and grinned at me. My daughter hadn't moved from the doorway. Mia clutched her stuffed polar bear in both arms. She barely speaks around strangers. Some days she barely speaks at all. I knelt in front of her. "You okay, bug? Did the loud man scare you?" She shook her head and pointed at her brother. "Theo was here," she whispered. "So I wasn't scared." My heart melted into a puddle on the floor. My phone buzzed on the desk. Dr. Walsh, the clinic director. "Sienna, I need you in my office right away. A VIP patient asked for you by name. Very private, very important. Do not keep him waiting." "On my way." I told Theo to watch his sister and stepped into the hallway, rubbing my temple. I'd made it three steps when I heard it. A crash from the supply closet. Then a sound that made the hair on my arms stand up. A man. Breathing hard. Choking back a groan of pure agony. "Hello?" I stepped closer. "Are you okay in there? I'm a doctor." I pulled the door open. A hand shot out of the darkness, closed around my wrist, and yanked me inside. The door slammed. A hard body pinned me against it, and a hot palm clamped over my mouth. "Make one sound," a low voice rasped against my ear, "and we're both finished."