The bus stop bench was cold metal.

Karly sat with her knees pulled together, her St. Jude uniform skirt threadbare at the hem.

A low purr vibrated through the asphalt.

A black Maybach glided down the street. It was an alien spaceship in this neighborhood of rusted pickups and broken dreams.

The rear window slid down.

Karly's breath hitched.

Bertrand Norton.

He was young. Twenty-two. His jawline was sharp enough to cut glass, his eyes hidden behind dark aviators. He looked bored. Detached.

In another life, he had looked at her with adoration. He had held her while she cried. He had been her husband.

Now, his head turned. His gaze swept over the bus stop.

It passed right over her.

He didn't see Karly Lowe. He saw a piece of scenery. A generic poor girl in a uniform.

The car accelerated, disappearing around the corner.

Karly dug her fingernails into her palms until crescents of blood appeared.

Not yet, she told herself. You are nothing to him yet.

She boarded the school bus. The smell of diesel and unwashed bodies grounded her.

When she arrived at St. Jude's, she went straight to the administration office.

"I need to check my enrollment status," she told the secretary, Mrs. Gable.

Mrs. Gable didn't look up from her typing. "Name?"

"Karly Lowe."

The typing stopped. Mrs. Gable peered over her glasses. "Lowe? Your withdrawal is being processed. Your guardian, Ardell Lowe, submitted the forms yesterday."

Karly's stomach dropped. Hakeem. He hadn't just threatened. He had acted.

"I didn't sign those," Karly said.

"It has your signature." Mrs. Gable pulled a file. She showed Karly the paper. It was a decent forgery. Hakeem had been practicing.

"It's a fake. I want to rescind it."

Mrs. Gable sighed. "It's already in the system, dear. To reinstate, you need a guardian's signature in person. And since your mother already signed off, that's unlikely. Or..." She glanced at a fee schedule. "You pay the administrative reinstatement penalty. Since you're on financial aid, a withdrawal triggers a penalty clause."

"How much?"

"Two thousand dollars."

Karly stared at the woman. She had maybe four dollars in her pocket.

She walked out of the office, her mind racing.

Her phone buzzed. A text from the neighbor.

Your dad fell again. Said it was because he couldn't see out of left eye at all now. Taking him to ER.

Karly stopped in the middle of the hallway. Students in cashmere sweaters flowed around her like a river around a stone.

Blindness. It was happening faster this time. That thud she heard… it wasn't just a stumble. Her fight with Ardell had triggered this.

She needed money. She needed a surgeon.

She thought of Dr. Vance.

Dr. Richard Vance. Chief of Neurosurgery at St. Jude Hospital. A brilliant, arrogant man. In her past life, his career ended in scandal in 2016. But in 2014, he was a god.

He was also the only one who could fix her father's optic nerve compression.

Karly checked her watch. First period was starting.

She turned around and walked toward the exit.

"Hey! Trash!"

Karly didn't stop.

Holli Talley stepped in front of her. Blonde, perfect, vicious. She held a steaming latte.

"Didn't you hear me?" Holli sneered. "Or are you deaf as well as poor?"

She tilted the cup. Brown liquid sloshed over the rim, splashing onto Karly's shoes.

"Oops." Holli smirked.

Karly looked at the stain. Then she looked at Holli.

She didn't cry. She didn't apologize.

She stepped forward, invading Holli's personal space.

"Get out of my way," Karly said.

Holli blinked. She wasn't used to resistance. "Excuse me?"

Karly shoved past her. Her shoulder checked Holli's, hard enough to make the girl stumble.

"You heard me," Karly threw over her shoulder.

She left Holli standing there, mouth open, as she marched out the double doors.

The hospital smelled of antiseptic and money. St. Jude's Medical Center was private, exclusive, and expensive.

Karly slipped past the volunteer desk while the receptionist was on the phone. She knew the layout. She had worked here as a resident in another life.

She took the stairs to the fourth floor. Neurosurgery.

Dr. Vance's office was at the end of the hall. The door was open.

Karly knocked on the frame.

Dr. Vance looked up. He was a silver fox, handsome in a way that suggested he knew it.

"This isn't pediatrics," he said, eyeing her uniform. "Are you lost?"

"I'm Gus Lowe's daughter," Karly said, stepping inside. "I'm here to discuss his surgery."

Vance laughed. A short, bark of a sound. "Gus Lowe? The man whose insurance was declined three times? The surgery is cancelled."

"I can pay you," Karly said. "Not in cash. In value."

Vance raised an eyebrow. "Value?"

"I know you're working on the cortical mapping project," Karly said quickly. "I know you're stuck on the temporal lobe interface. I can show you how to bypass the signal noise."

Vance froze. "How do you know about that? That research is unpublished."

"I read," Karly said. "I can fix your algorithm. In exchange for my father's surgery."

Vance stared at her. For a second, she saw curiosity.

Then, he opened his desk drawer. He pulled out a piece of paper.

"Your brother was here this morning," Vance said. His voice was cold now.

Karly's heart sank.

"He signed a waiver refusing treatment on your father's behalf," Vance said. "And he warned me that his sister is a pathological liar with a drug problem who might try to scam the hospital for pain meds."

"He's lying," Karly said. "He wants the disability check."

"Get out," Vance said. He reached for the phone. "Or I call security."

"Dr. Vance, listen to me. The compression on his optic nerve is-"

"Security," Vance said into the receiver. "I have an intruder in my office."

Karly grit her teeth. She turned and walked out.

Defeat tasted like ash. Hakeem was always one step ahead. He was thorough in his greed.

She walked down the hallway, her fists clenched.

Hakeem was leaning against the wall near the elevators, flirting with a young nurse. He'd clearly talked his way past the floor's reception desk, likely spinning a sob story about his poor, blind father and his 'troubled' sister.

He saw Karly and pushed off the wall. A smug grin spread across his face.

"Told you," he whispered as she passed. "Dad's better off blind. We get the check. You don't have to worry about bills."

Karly stopped. She looked at his throat. She knew exactly where to punch to collapse his windpipe.

Not here, she reminded herself. Cameras.

She pushed past him toward the restrooms. She needed cold water on her face. She needed to think.

She pushed open the restroom door.

A woman was screaming.

Not a horror movie scream. A primal, terrified sound.

A young mother was shaking an infant. The baby was blue. Silent.

"Help! Someone help!"

A nurse rushed in from the hall. "Code Blue! Pediatric airway!"

The nurse grabbed an oxygen mask from the wall unit. She tried to force it over the baby's face.

"No!" Karly shouted.

The nurse ignored her. She squeezed the bag.

Karly saw the baby's chest fail to rise. The air pressure was pushing the obstruction further down.

"Stop!" Karly lunged. "It's a complete blockage! You're killing her!"

Dr. Vance appeared in the doorway.

"What is going on here?" he bellowed. "Security! Get that girl out of here!"

The nurse shoved the mask harder against the tiny face.

The baby went from blue to gray. The struggle in the tiny limbs ceased.

Limp.

Karly's vision tunneled.

She didn't see a baby. She saw a patient. She saw an airway that needed to be opened now.

She body-checked the nurse.

The woman went flying, crashing into the paper towel dispenser.

"You crazy bitch!" the mother shrieked, clawing at Karly.

Karly shoved the mother back with one arm, snatching the baby with the other.

"Hold her down!" Karly ordered. The command in her voice was absolute. It was the voice of a Chief Resident.

The mother froze, stunned by the authority.

Karly flipped the baby over her arm. Whack. Back blow.

Nothing.

Whack.

Dr. Vance grabbed Karly's shoulder. "Let go of the child! You are assaulting a patient!"

Karly spun. Her eyes were wild, terrifying.

"She's dead in ten seconds unless I cut!" she roared at Vance. "Give me a scalpel!"

Vance recoiled. "You're insane."

Hakeem was in the doorway now, holding up his phone. Filming. "Look at her! She's killing that baby!"

No time.

Karly reached into her sleeve. She pulled out the utility knife from her desk.

The mother screamed. "She has a knife!"

Karly flicked open the lighter Hakeem had been using at the quarry. The flame licked the steel blade, turning it orange for a split second. A crude sterilization, but better than nothing.

Karly pinned the baby to the changing table. She hyperextended the neck.

She felt for the landmarks. Thyroid cartilage. Cricoid cartilage. The membrane between them.

A space smaller than a fingernail.

"Don't do it!" Vance shouted, lunging forward.

Karly sliced.

A vertical incision. Precise. One centimeter.

Blood welled up, dark and terrifying.

The mother fainted, crumpling to the floor.

Karly didn't look. She grabbed a suction straw from a juice box on the counter-trash left by someone else. She jammed it into the hole.

She put her mouth over the straw and sucked.

Metallic taste. Blood. And something sweet.

She spat onto the floor. A bloody lump of hard candy.

She put her ear to the straw.

Silence.

One second.

Two seconds.

Vance was reaching for her arm.

Then-

A sound. A wet, wheezing gasp.

Then a cry. Thin, weak, but unmistakable.

The baby's chest heaved. Pink color flooded back into the gray cheeks.

Karly slumped against the sink. The utility knife clattered to the floor.