Keira sat on the edge of the hospital bed, now dressed in the clean clothes Blair had brought her, soft gray leggings and an oversized plain sweatshirt that felt like heaven after two days in that filthy gown. She had taken a shower and washed her hair.

Her discharge papers were signed, her prescriptions for mild pain relievers and a sleep aid if she needed them, were tucked in her purse. Dr Morris had warned her to look for signs of PTSD.

All she wanted was to see Alexei before she left. ...