“Got it, can you keep an eye on my rooms?”

“Sure,” she agrees, and I smile.

“Be right back.” I head down the hall and out of the double doors. Stopping at the elevator, I press the down arrow, my ring catching my attention like it’s done every day for the last week. I love my ring; it’s perfect—more than perfect—I still want to pinch myself every time it catches my eye. Getting on the elevator when the doors open, I go down to the first floor, get off, and then head for the gift shop, smiling at people as I pass.

Glimpsing Dr. Hofstadter as he stands at the end of the hall talking to another doctor, I blink. His nose is swollen, there is purple and yellow bruising under his eyes, and there’s an ugly yellow-green bruise on the underside of his jaw. His eyes come to me, and as soon as our gazes lock, my stomach twists when I see the look on his face.

Ducking my head, I enter the gift shop, and then my head flies back up when I hear a woman ahead of me in line give her order. I know her voice. I know her voice, because she’s the woman I heard crying and talking to her friend in the bathroom. Placing my order, I wonder what I should do. Should I talk to her? Should I tell her I heard her talking about Hofstadter? Going to stand at the end of the counter, I get close to where she is, my heart pounding hard against my rib cage.

“Hi,” I blurt, and her eyes swing to me.

“Uh… hi.” She smiles a small, awkward smile, and I bite my lip when she looks away.

“Do you work on this floor?” I ask.

She looks at me once more. “Yeah, I’m in the emergency department.”

“Awesome. My dream is to work in the emergency room,” I tell her.

She smiles genuinely then sticks out her hand toward me. “Amy Sheldon.”

“Harmony Mayson.” I shake her hand. “It’s so nice to meet you.

“Yeah.” She nods. “You too. Have you applied for the emergency room yet?”

“When I first applied at the hospital, yes, but I didn’t get accepted. Right now, I’m taking the trauma and critical care class here, in hopes to transfer to emergency when a spot opens up.”

“We’ll have to exchange numbers. I’ll let you know if I hear anything,” she says.

I stare at her. “You’d do that?”

“Totally.”

“Wow.” As I pull out my cell phone and she does the same with hers, my skin prickles, and I turn to find Hofstadter in line to get coffee, his eyes on us. Feeling Amy tense, my stomach twists, but I fight through it and return my attention back to her. “What’s your number?” I ask, and she gives it to me then shoves her phone in her pocket, saying a quick goodbye before taking off.

Picking up Mimi’s and my coffees when they are done, I take them to the elevator and up to the second floor. “Dr. Hofstadter has a broken nose,” I blurt out, and Mimi looks up at me, her brows pulling together. “He also has a few other bruises.”

“Yeah, I saw that a few days ago.” She grabs her coffee from me, taking a sip of it.

“Do you know what happened to him?”

“No idea. My guess: he pissed someone off.” She shrugs, and I bite my lip. The bruising looked a week old, maybe a little older. I told Harlen what I overheard a week or so ago, but would he do that? “I wish I knew who did it. I would walk right up to them and give them a high five.”

Mimi’s admission breaks through my thoughts, and I smile at her then look at the board when a ding starts and a light flashes. “Be right back.” I lean over the counter to set my coffee down then head for my patient’s room. After helping them to the bathroom and back to bed, I walk back out to the nurses’ station, seeing Hofstadter talking to Mimi when I get there. I slow my steps, but when he sees me, he doesn’t acknowledge me. He takes off.

“What was that?” Mimi asks as soon as I reach the station, her eyes on the door Hofstadter just left through.

“What?”

“As soon as Dr. Hofstadter saw you, he couldn’t get away quick enough. What was that?”

“I don’t know,” I mutter, but my stomach twists once again.

“Weird.” She shrugs, and I bite my lip. It’s not weird; I have a feeling I know what’s going on, and as soon as I get home, I plan on finding out from my fiancé exactly what he did.

***

Walking out of the hospital four hours later, the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end and I scan the dark, mostly empty lot. Since I started working here, it’s always dark when I leave, but I’ve never felt the way I do right now. Hurrying to my car, I get in and lock the doors, scanning the lot as I start the engine. I put on my seat belt, back out of my parking spot, and then see a car a few spaces down from mine pull out too.

Shaking off the weird feeling sitting in my gut, I turn right onto the main road and see the car do the same. Then I stop at a stoplight and look in my rearview mirror. Seeing the person in the light from the streetlamps above, my heart starts to beat strangely. It’s night, completely dark outside, and they have on a black beanie, which wouldn’t be weird normally, since it’s cold, but they also have on sunglasses, those also black, hiding their face from view.

Reaching over into my passenger seat, I search through my purse until I find my phone then drop it in my lap. The light turns green, and when it does, I make a last second decision, and instead of going left, I go straight, seeing the car’s blinker shut off as they follow me.

Okay, maybe they didn’t want to go left either. Driving straight, I bite my lip then pull into one of the turn lanes. The car follows, pulling up behind me. Panicked now, I wait for two cars to pass then turn and pick up my cell, dialing Harlen.

“Hey, Angel, you off?” he answers, sounding like I woke him up, and I’m sure I did. He probably fell asleep on the couch with Dizzy, something he does often when he’s waiting for me to get home.

“I think I’m being followed,” I whisper, wondering if I’m losing my mind. Looking in the rearview, I see the car still there, still close. Shit.

“What?”

“I just left the hospital, got a weird feeling. When I pulled out, a car pulled out with me. I turned; they turned. I don’t know, but I think they’re following me.”

“Where are you?” he asks, and I hear him moving around doing it quickly.

Looking at the streets as I pass, I answer. “Right now, on Main,” I say, as my breathing starts to turn ragged with worry and fear.

“Breathe for me, baby. It’s going to be okay. Just keep your speed, stay on Main, I’m gonna get on my bike and find you.”

“I want to come home,” I whisper, as tears start to blur my vision.

“I know you do, and you will. But right now, I want you to keep your speed and stay on Main. I’ll find you. Promise.”

Promise. Yes, he will find me.

“Okay.”

“I gotta let you go so I can get on my bike. Call your dad and tell him to notify the cops so they can be on the lookout for you.”

“Harlen,” I whisper, fear audible in my voice that’s now shaking.

“Angel, it’s gonna be okay. Stay on Main. Call your dad as soon as we hang up. I’m on my way to you now.”

“Okay,” I whisper.

“Love you.”

“I love you too.” I see the light ahead of me turn red, and with no choice, I slow to a stop as the line goes dead. With blurred vision, I pull up my dad’s number in my phone and press Send.

“Honey, what’s going on?” Dad asks, sounding like I woke him up.

“I think someone is following me,” I whisper into the phone once again, looking from the rearview mirror to the light ahead of me.

“What?”

“I think someone is following me,” I repeat, pressing down on the gas as soon as the light turns green.

“Where are you?”

“On Main Street. I just passed Veterans. Harlen is coming, but he will have to find me. He’s home, so it will take him a few minutes to get to this side of town. He said to call you.”

“I’m gonna call dispatch and let them know to be on the lookout for your car. Keep driving. Do not get off Main.”