Olivia

We ate in companionable silence for a few minutes. The food was exactly what I needed, settling warmly in my stomach and chasing away the hollow feeling that had lingered since the hospital.

"How's your father doing?" Alexander asked, breaking the silence.

"Stable. The surgery went well, but recovery will take time." I twirled pasta around my fork. "Thanks again for arranging Dr. Weaver. The nurses said he never takes new patients."

"He owed ...