Chapter 1

At three in the morning, my son's fever spiked into a seizure, and I rushed into the ER with my hair flying everywhere.

The doctor on duty looked up, and his eyes above the mask were cold and disturbingly familiar.

It was my ex-husband, the man who vanished four years ago without a word.

He stared down at the chart, and his voice came out flat, like he was talking to a complete stranger. "Where's the kid's dad? Why didn't he come with you?"

I held my burning son tighter against my chest and let out a bitter laugh. "He's dead. Been dead so long there's probably weeds growing over his grave by now."

The pen in his hand snapped.

He jerked his head up, and his eyes went red as he stared at me and the little boy who looked exactly like him.

*****

At three in the morning, my son Ethan Davis spiked a fever and started seizing.

I burst into the emergency room with my hair wild and tangled.

Ethan burned in my arms, and his little face was flushed bright red. His body twitched in small, jerking movements.

"Doctor! Please, someone help!" I screamed, and my voice shook so badly I could barely get the words out.

A figure in a white coat walked out of the on-call room.

He wore a surgical mask that covered everything but his eyes. Those eyes were cold and distant, but I recognized them immediately.

My chest tightened, and I couldn't breathe. It was him. James Cooper. My ex-husband, the one I'd walked away from four years ago without a single word.

He took the chart from a nurse and glanced down at it, then slowly lifted his gaze to my face. His expression didn't change at all. He looked at me like I was a complete stranger.

"What's wrong with the child?" he asked. His voice came out flat and muffled through the mask.

I forced myself to stay calm and spoke as fast as I could. "He started running a fever this afternoon. I gave him medicine but it didn't work, and just now he had a seizure. His eyes rolled back."

James frowned slightly and reached out to touch Ethan's forehead. His movements were quick and professional.

"Get a blood test done first, then we'll start cooling him down," he said as he scribbled on the order form. The pen scratched across the paper.

He didn't look at me once the whole time.

I held Ethan close and dug my nails into my palms. It had been four years, and I thought I'd never see him again.

But here we were. He was now the youngest ER doctor at the hospital, and I was a terrified single mom watching my son burn up with fever.

When I came back with the test results, James was leaning against the nurses' station and talking to a young, pretty nurse. She looked up at him with obvious adoration in her eyes.

"Dr. Cooper, want to catch a movie after your shift?" she asked.

James didn't say yes or no. He stood there with that same cold, distant air he always had. When he saw me, he straightened up and walked over.

"Let me see the results," he said.

I handed them over.

He scanned the numbers, and his voice was all business. "Viral infection. The fever caused a febrile seizure. He needs to be admitted for observation."

"Okay," I said, my voice hoarse.

He started writing in the chart and asked without looking up, "Where's the father? The critical condition form needs a family signature."

I held Ethan tighter and felt four years of buried rage surge through me. I looked at him and gave him a cold smile.

"He's dead," I said flatly. "Dead and buried. Long gone."

His hand froze. The pen dragged across the chart, leaving a harsh black line. The tip snapped.

James jerked his head up and his eyes above the mask locked onto me.

Then they moved to Ethan in my arms, the little boy who was his spitting image. His eyes turned red in an instant.