For one second, Maya considered pretending she had not recognized him.
It was ridiculous, of course. The man had been on every television in the hospital for a week, had occupied half the gossip pages in the country, and had recently entrusted her with the removal of one inflamed organ. Recognition was not optional.
Leo Reyes looked from Maya to the open hood of her car, then back to her face.
“This feels medically unrelated,” he said, “but you look like you’re losing an argument with your engine.”
Maya closed the hood harder than necessary. “Keep driving.”
“I would, but then I’d have to spend the next hour wondering whether you murdered your car or it died naturally.”
“I’m waiting for a tow.”
“In the rain?”
“It’s a modern service. They function in weather.”
“How long?”
Maya said
