Six months had passed since Celeste Su stepped onto that relief ship. Now she stood on the deck of a supply freighter as it slid into the harbor of Marseille, the lavender dusk settling over terracotta rooftops. Salt air mingled with the tang of citrus from the quay's market stalls. In her pocket, she carried an old newspaper clipping—Adrian's announcement of the first Sunlight Center in Hong Kong.
She'd clipped it on her first stop, two months ago, when she'd treated cholera patients in Dar es Salaam. Since then she'd followed each new opening—London, São Paulo, Nairobi—across five continents. Each clinic bore the same sunburst logo behind its doors.
“Madame Su?" A young doctor approached, dark scrubs fluttering. “We're ready with the charts."
Celeste nodded, brushing a loose strand of
