Page 1 of Broken Dream
Prologue
If I can’t have you, I’ll make sure no one else ever does.
She never heard me say the words out loud.
But they live inside my mind.
I watch.
And I wait.
Chapter One
Angie
Today’s the day.
Anatomy lab begins.
And I’m feeling a little…nauseated.
This is a huge part of a medical student’s education, and I knew it was coming. Still…
The room is chilly. It has to be, so the cadavers won’t rot.
Yeah, more nausea.
“How can you not be more excited?” Tabitha Haynes, a bubbly blonde and my assigned lab partner, asks me.
She and I met briefly at the mixer at the beginning of the first semester, but we haven’t been friendly. I haven’t been very friendly with any of my fellow students, to be honest. I’m kind of an introvert. I was popular in high school and college simply by being one of the “awesome foursome,” which consisted of my twin sister, Sage, and my cousins Brianna and Gina. We’re the youngest in our large family, so we’ve always hung out together. Sage, Bree, and Gina are all extroverts, so I tagged along, and they brought me out of my shell.
But I’m alone here in Boulder, Colorado, as I begin my second semester of my first year of medical school.
“I’m going into psychiatry,” I tell Tabitha. “The thought of dissecting an actual human being kind of makes me want to barf.”
My comment doesn’t seem to faze her. “I’m going into surgery, so this is huge for me,” she says.
I wrinkle my nose. “Don’t you ever think about the ethics of it? Like, what if we recognize him? Or her?”
“Now you’re just being gross,” Tabitha says. “Besides, we’ve only been in medical school for a couple of months so far. You may really enjoy this lab. You may decide you don’t want to focus on psychiatry after all.”
I shake my head. “My aunt is a renowned psychiatrist. She’s retired now, but she’s amazing. If I can be half the psychiatrist she is, I know I’ll contribute something wonderful to the world.”
Tabitha rolls her eyes at me. “Dr. Melanie Carmichael Steel. We all know who you are, Angie.”
Yeah, everyone knows I’m a member of the Steel family. I may not carry their last name, but my mother, Marjorie Steel Simpson, is sister—and the only female sibling—to the three Steel brothers.
“I don’t flaunt my family ties,” I say.
“Did I say you did?” She purses her lips. “There’s been talk, of course. I’m not saying I’ve been talking, but there’s been talk.”
I should be surprised, but I’m not. There’s always talk.
“About what?” I ask.
“About you and your hefty Steel trust fund. About why you’re even bothering with medical school when you have enough money to last your entire lifetime and more.”
“God.” I let out a huff. “I’m so sick of this kind of shit. I got it all through college, too. Maybe I should’ve gone to medical school somewhere on the East Coast where no one has ever heard of the Steels.”
