I stared at my phone until the screen went dark in my hand.
At some point, exhaustion dragged me under because when I opened my eyes again, the room was flooded with pale morning light, and my neck ached from the awkward angle on the pillow.
I lay there for a moment, heart racing with the memory of the box. Rising from the bed, I washed my face in cold water, but the tightness in my chest remained.
Then I put on my coat the way I always did when I needed to feel like a doctor instead of a woman barely holding herself together.
No new calls.
No packages waiting outside my door.
Nothing moving on the security cameras that shouldn’t be there.
Whoever had sent the finger wasn’t finished.
They were either very patient… or very confident.
The thought made a cold knot tighten in my stoma
