The pen did not hesitate.
Evelyn signed on the dotted line, slid the document forward, and reached for the next page without lifting her eyes. Insurance authorization. Pharmacy transfer. Property tax acknowledgment. Her signature curved the same way it always had—controlled, legible, unembellished.
Julian stood across the kitchen island watching her.
“You’re efficient,” he said lightly. “Even on leave.”
“I prefer clean files.”
He smiled as if that were charming. “We’ll use this time well.”
We.
She initialed a margin correction. “I’ve updated the emergency contacts.”
“Good,” he replied. “Add my cell again. Sometimes the hospital defaults to office numbers.”
“I’ve handled it.”
He leaned against the counter, relaxed, sleeves rolled, confidence restored. The past forty-eight hours ha
