Shadows stretched long across the gleaming marble of the kitchen counter as Rory traced her fingertips over the embossed lettering of a business card. "Sweet Dreams Bakery" – the words blurred as moisture gathered in her eyes. Eight weeks since Sam had walked out the door of their Calabasas mansion for the last time, white coat folded over his arm, oblivious to the chaos that would unfold in the pediatric wing. Eight weeks since a desperate father with a gun had changed everything.
"You should call them."
Jim's voice slid through the kitchen like dark honey, raising goosebumps along her arms. He leaned against the doorframe, still damp from his shower, t-shirt clinging to the surgical scar that bisected his chest. Beneath that scar beat the heart that had once belonged to his brother –
