❝ –– perhaps it’s true that things can change in a day. and when they do, those few dozen hours, like the salvaged remains of a burned house—the charred clock, the singed photograph, the scorched furniture—must be resurrected from the ruins and examined. and suddenly, they become the bleached bones of a story.
“When you were my age? You make me sound like I’m 12. I promise i’m not, no matter how young I might look,” Scarlett laughed and then asked, “How old do you think I am, anyway?” “Ah, no, I haven’t met her just yet. She’s next on my list. I’m actually really excited to be working with you. You’re one of the heart surgeons on my list to pick the brains of, no matter how skilled I may be, there’s always room to learn more,” she rambled again.
“Not a day over thirty, I’d say,” Teddy grinned. It was true, even though she could already tell that Scarlett wasn’t just another pretty face. “But only because I’m feeling generous. Also, you flatter me — I’ve once been told that, according to Google, I don’t exist. So, thank you. I’d be more than happy to let you scrub in on my next surgery, if you run out of places to go and people to see.”
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