The Ghost Surgeon's Revenge: Rising From Ashes

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y silence of the Pierre Hotel suite. It froze Ayla's h

nly hours ago. Shame, hot and prickly, crawled up her neck. She dropped a small, sterile-sealed package containing a single, disposable scalpe

cracking. She grabbed her clutch, her fingers t

her. The heavy thud of bare feet on t

yl

maybe he had whispered it against her skin. She couldn't remember. The memories were a blur of

ntil her shoulder blades hit

sly loose. Water droplets clung to the dark hair on his chest, trailing down the defined ridges of

a. A corner of his mouth ticked up, b

id?" He took a step forward. The

the strap of her dress, pulling it higher on h

nd on the wall beside her head, boxing her in. She could smell him-cedar, expensive soap,

n octave. "Back to Long Island? Back to the hus

d. "That's none o

His eyes dropped to her neck. He reached out, his thumb brushing over a t

ay, slapping hi

pped back, letting his hand drop. "Go on t

nd tossed it into the trash can without looking. "Keep you

r him to say anythi

she refused to look at. She stared at the floor numbers ch

en didn't help. It just fueled the panic taking root in her chest. She hailed a cab, g

It felt heavy, like a shackle made of platinum

sprawling monstrosity of stone and ivy that peopl

heels sounding like gunshots in the quiet morning. She fixed her hair. She pasted

Henderson, the butler, stood there. His face was a mask of profes

said. "Madam is i

h dropped.

house was cold. It was always cold. Spencer liked the air conditioning low, cla

near her lips. She didn't look up when Ayla entered. She just set th

ultured, and laced with venom. "And you look lik

lied. The lie tasted like a

ins our resources and your time. The palliative care reports I review are a litany of complaints and very little progress. I'm

re. The drug regimen Spencer had approved for her Mom... it had always felt wrong. Too passive. The dosages were enough to sedate, not to heal. Ayla had told her

a lia

g his cufflinks. He looked impeccable. Navy suit, crisp white shirt, not

was a

g that mirrored the wreckage inside her. But there was nothing.

said, her voice

isheveled appearance with a sneer of distaste. "

mother, kissing her chee

shifting instantly. "Do tell your wife to pull he

tarts at seven. Wear the black dress. The high-necked one. A

een. He didn't ask why she ha

the door witho

the house seeped into her bones, replacing the lingering hea

tripped off the dress. She turned the shower on as hot as it would go. She scrubbed her skin until

n, she closed her eyes and felt the ph

towel around herself. Her

. A text from an

ur blade, M

ped. The air l

alpel. And he knew