❝ –– 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.
“Yeah, tell me about it. I’m assigning them all to scut. I don’t remember ever being so incompetent.” She rolled her eyes, moving forward toward the other woman. A smile planted on her lips as she offered her hand. “Amelia Shepherd. Neuro. And you are… Teddy, I’m guessing? Derek has mentioned you.”
Amelia eyed the other woman, narrowing her gaze just slightly. Something seemed a bit off , though she couldn’t quite put a finger on what or why. “Are you…okay? I didn’t say something totally inappropriate already, did I?”
Catching herself, Teddy managed to shake off
her daze before Amelia put her down as a
complete mess. Though the look in her eyes still
held a little awe, it wasn’t enough to be noticed if
Amelia didn’t already know the reason — and of
course she didn’t. Teddy’s little girl had gotten to
live, while Amelia’s little boy had died. No
one
ever needed a reminder of that.
“Sorry — yes, I’m Teddy,” she muttered, shaking
Amelia’s hand. “No, you haven’t said anything —
I’m just a little
busy, you know? I have patients
and everything to get to; I didn’t mean to be rude.”
In truth, Teddy was merely
grasping on any
excuse to get out of there, for she
couldn’t stand
to spend another second being reminded just
how close Delia had come to d e a t h .
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