Grace's world was pain and darkness.

She floated between consciousness and oblivion, aware only of gentle hands and a soft voice whispering words she couldn't quite grasp. The gunshot wound in her shoulder burned like fire, but she was alive. Somehow, impossibly, alive.

"Shh," the voice murmured. "You're safe now."

Grace forced her eyes open. A woman's face hovered above her—kind eyes, graying hair, features that seemed strangely familiar. The woman was tending to her ...