CHAPTER
Margot Linklater woke up in her scrubs, her hair drenched in sweat. Another nightmare? If it was, she couldn’t remember it.
She’d have to thank Dr. Harris for those sleeping pills he’d prescribed.
What time was it? She groaned and silenced her screeching alarm. At least she tried to. Then she realized it wasn’t her alarm but her phone.
“Hello?” Her voice sounded awful. Awful and groggy and congested. She cleared her throat.
“Margot?” Paige. The office manager.
Uh-oh.
She jumped out of bed. “I’m so sorry. I forgot I was on the early shift today ...”
A pathetic excuse.
“I’m already dressed,” Margot lied. “Just have to throw on my shoes. I can be there in ten minutes. Twelve tops. I’m so sorry.”
“I know.” There was a heaviness in Paige’s voice.
“It won’t happen again,” Marg
