Page 40 of For Mercy

Carl nodded slowly."It wasn't easy.There were days I wanted to scream, to lash out at the world.But my therapist helped me see that holding onto that anger was only hurting me."

He paused, taking a deep breath before continuing."I hated her for a long time.But I let it go.What would revenge even do for me?"

His words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of hard-won wisdom.Morgan felt a twinge in her chest, an echo of her own struggle with the desire for vengeance against those who had framed her.

She watched Carl closely, her trained eyes picking up every micro-expression, every subtle shift in his body language.But there was no trace of the man who had once raged in a courtroom.This Carl Worth had made peace with his loss.

"It sounds like you've come a long way," Morgan said, her voice carrying a hint of admiration.

Carl nodded, a sad smile touching his lips."I have.It's not always easy, but I've learned to live with my loss.My brother wouldn't have wanted me to waste my life on bitterness and revenge."

***

The car's engine hummed softly as Morgan leaned her head against the cool glass of the passenger window.The world outside blurred into a hazy smear of colors, mirroring the fog that seemed to have settled over her mind.Two days without sleep was taking its toll, and Morgan could feel exhaustion pulling at her like quicksand.

"You okay?"Derik's voice cut through the silence, concern etched in his tone.

Morgan turned to look at him, her eyes heavy."Just tired.Nothing a gallon of coffee won't fix."

Derik frowned."Maybe you should catch some sleep when we get back to the office.I can handle the paperwork."

"No," Morgan shook her head, wincing at the dull ache the movement caused."We can't afford to waste time.This killer-"

Her words trailed off as something tugged at the edges of her consciousness.A stray thought, elusive as smoke, danced just out of reach.Morgan closed her eyes, trying to grasp it.

"Morgan?"Derik's voice sounded distant.

The pieces began to fall into place, slowly at first, then with increasing speed.Carl Worth, his anger tempered by time and therapy.The raw grief in his eyes, softened but still present.The way he spoke about letting go, about the futility of revenge.

Morgan's eyes snapped open, adrenaline surging through her veins, pushing back the fog of exhaustion.

"Oh God," she breathed, her heart racing."I might know who it is."

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Dr.Thomas Bryant sank into his favorite leather armchair, relishing the rare quiet of an empty house.No patients to see, no hospital rounds, no urgent calls—just blessed solitude.He closed his eyes, savoring the moment.

"I should be relaxing," he muttered, a wry smile tugging at his lips.But relaxation had never come easily to Thomas.Even on his days off, his mind raced with unfinished tasks and looming responsibilities.

His gaze drifted to the basement door.The unfinished renovation project lurked below, a constant reminder of his overpacked schedule.With a sigh, he heaved himself out of the chair.

"Might as well make some progress," he decided."Sandra will be thrilled if I actually finish something around here for once."

Thomas retrieved his toolbox from the hall closet, the familiar weight oddly comforting in his hand.As a surgeon, he was used to precision instruments, but there was something satisfying about these rougher tools.

He pulled open the basement door, flicking on the light switch.The narrow wooden staircase creaked under his feet as he descended.The air grew noticeably cooler, carrying the faint scent of dampness.

Thomas wrinkled his nose."Really need to get a dehumidifier down here," he mused.

At the bottom of the stairs, he surveyed the unfinished space.Bare concrete floors, exposed beams, and stacks of building materials greeted him.Half-completed drywall lined one wall where he'd started and abandoned the project weeks ago.

"Where did I leave off?"Thomas muttered, setting down his toolbox.He ran a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair, trying to recall his renovation plans.

The basement was meant to be a surprise for Sandra—a cozy den where they could unwind after long hospital shifts.But between emergency surgeries and board meetings, Thomas had barely made a dent in the work.

He sighed heavily."I'm a better doctor than I am a handyman, that's for sure."

Still, he was determined to make progress today.Thomas rolled up his sleeves and picked up a piece of drywall, measuring it against the exposed studs.

---