Chapter 68 - Old Friend

Eliana Bennett lifted her head slowly, her cheeks streaked with tears, her honey eyes still glassy from crying. Through the blur, she focused on the man in front of her. The little alcove off the hospital corridor suddenly felt smaller, the faint trickle of the fountain outside fading into background noise. Sunlight spilled through the tall window, catching the edges of his frame—tousled brown hair that kept falling over his forehead, sharp blue eyes filled with both concern and something like surprise. He wore a plain white coat over casual slacks, a stethoscope hanging from his pocket like a quiet reminder of who he was trying to become. In his hand, he held out a folded handkerchief. It was spotless, marked with tiny stitched initials—H.J.—and she noticed the faint tremor in his fingers as he offered it to her.