Page 58 of Brotan

Maya

The stranger staring at me from the mirror wears a dark green evening gown that catches every hint of light, transforming it into emerald fire. Her hair forms an elegant crown of auburn curls, not a strand out of place. Perfect makeup hides the shadows beneath her eyes, the evidence of sleepless nights and silent tears.

I barely recognize myself.

Three days ago, I stood in a burning clinic in Shadow Ridge. Now I'm in my parents' Manhattan penthouse, dressed for a gala I have no desire to attend. My mother worked quickly—private jet the night of the fire, movers for the belongings that wouldn't fit in my hastily packed suitcase, and a team of stylists today to transform me back into the polished Manhattan doctor I once was.

As if Shadow Ridge could be erased with the right shade of lipstick.

I smooth my hands over the sequined fabric, trying to find comfort in its cool texture. The dress is beautiful, objectively. Expensive. Perfect for the Winthrop charity ball, where I'll be introduced to potential clients as Long Island's newest concierge doctor.

Perfect for a life I no longer want.

"There you are!" My mother sweeps into the room, her own designer gown rustling softly. She circles me, adjusting nonexistent imperfections. "Much better. You look like yourself again."

"Do I?" The question emerges softer than intended.

She meets my eyes in the mirror, her smile tightening at the corners. "Of course. That awful small-town pallor is finally gone." Her hands settle on my shoulders. "Soon this whole... Georgia episode will feel like a strange dream."

The mention of Shadow Ridge brings a sharp ache to my chest. I see flashes of everything I left behind—the clinic I'd begun to rebuild, Helen's knowing smile across the diner counter, Gus's gruff affection.

Crow.

"Mom, I don't think I've made the right choice," I say, the words escaping before I can stop them. "I left so much unfinished there."

Her smile disappears. She guides me to sit on the edge of my bed, sinking down beside me with practiced grace. "Maya, darling. We've been through this." She takes my hands in hers, her diamond tennis bracelet catching the light. "You made the best possible choice. The only sensible choice."

I shake my head. "But the clinic—"

"It was burning to the ground when we arrived," she interrupts. "A sign if I've ever seen one."

"Signs can be misinterpreted."

She sighs, the sound edged with impatience. "Even that... Crow person agreed you should leave. He practically insisted." Her voice softens with calculated sympathy. "When even the locals think you should go, it's time to listen."

The memory of Crow's cold dismissal cuts fresh. His amber eyes turned to stone as he spoke to my father like I wasn't even there.You can leave as soon as you're ready. Send her home where she belongs.

Had he meant it? Or was it another attempt to protect me by pushing me away?

"What you're feeling is perfectly normal," my mother continues, patting my hand. "Pre-party jitters, that's all. The Winthrops are intimidating, but Marcus specifically requested you based on your surgical record." A hint of genuine pride softens her expression. "This position is everything you've worked for—prestigious clients, exceptional compensation, and normal hours."

I force a smile. "I just need a minute to finish getting ready."

"Don't take too long." She checks her diamond watch. "The car is waiting downstairs. Your father and I will be inside when you're ready." She pauses at the door. "Tonight is the first night of the rest of your life, Maya. Try to look happy about it."

The door closes behind her with a soft click. I turn back to the mirror, studying the stranger who stares back at me.

I'm trying to do the right thing. For my career. For my parents' approval. For my own healing after Jamie. For Crow, who made it clear that I don't belong in his world.

But as I reach for my clutch, Jamie Matthews' face flashes before me—twenty-six years old, mother of two, dead on my operating table. I'd run to Shadow Ridge to escape that memory, only to find something worth staying for. Something I'm now abandoning.

I can't shake the feeling that I've left behind something essential—something that matters more than prestigious clients, parental approval, or even my own safety.

I've abandoned the woman who was finally becoming the doctor she always wanted to be. The kind of doctor Jamie would have been proud to have.

I gather what remains of my courage, grab my evening bag, and open the door to the hallway. When I glance up, a wall of green blocks my path.

I freeze, staring up at the massive orc filling the doorframe. He's older than Crow and Diesel—gray at his temples, lines etching the corners of his eyes, his olive-green skin weathered by years I can only guess at. Despite his age, he's somehow larger than Crow, with shoulders that make the already narrow hall feel like a shoebox.

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