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wanted to believe it. It wasn’t as if there wasn’t evidence to support her sister’s claim, but then again, there was other evidence to consider too:
    Exhibit A: This stomachache she couldn’t lose.
    Exhibit B: Obsessively checking her phone to see if Dennis had texted or emailed.
    Exhibit C: Reliving every moment of their breakup in the hopes that somewhere in Dennis’ speech there had been a gem of hope for reconciliation that she had missed.
    Jury—do you have a verdict?
    We, the jury, find the defendant, not over Dennis Connolly.
    Thea looked at her sisters and mustered a weak smile for their benefit.
    She knew they meant well but this was one villain not even the superpowers of sisterhood could overcome.
     

Chapter Two
     
     
    Calder Frye woke in darkness at the chime of his cell and reached across his bed for the nightstand lamp. Snapping it on, he squinted against the harsh light and scooped up his phone, seeing the time: 2:10 am.
    Good hearing was a reflex, had been as long as he’d been in medicine and on-call. Just one ring could pierce the curtain of his sleep. One ring and he was alert, wide-eyed and ready to go.
    But even as he answered, confusion clouded his thoughts: He wasn’t on call tonight. “This is Dr. Frye.”
    “Dr. Frye, this is Ellen, the attending nurse at Mt. Pleasant.”
    He rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand. “Ellen, look, I’m glad to come in but I’m not the on-call physician until Thursday.”
    “This isn’t for that, Doctor,” the nurse interrupted gently. “It’s your father. Greg Wyman just brought him in and I thought you should know—”
    Calder threw off the sheet. “I’m on my way.”
     
    * * *
     
    The reception area of Mt. Pleasant’s Urgent Care was quiet when Calder pushed through the double doors twenty minutes later. Before he’d even reached the check-in desk, Greg Wyman crossed the floor to meet him, the man’s round, ruddy face flushed, his blue eyes pooling with apology. The two friends had been classmates since sixth grade, their families once neighbors across the railroad tracks in Pineville. Since being laid off from the police force the year before, Greg had been working the overnight shift as a security guard for the Lucky Mart.
    “I came out to the parking lot to do my check, and there was your dad, passed out in his truck.”
    “Thanks for bringing him in, Greg,” Calder said, patting his shoulder.
    “I tried Pete first but he didn’t pick up.”
    Calder could only hope that his older brother might have slept through the call. Pete would blow a gasket when he found out they’d brought their father to the Urgent Care. It was the second time in two weeks their father’s drinking had landed him in the clinic. Maybe this time Calder could get their father cleared and out before Pete got wind of the news.
    But in the next instant, the doors swung open and Pete Frye blew in, his wife, Marie, rushing behind him.
    Calder sighed. So much for that wish .
    Pete’s eyes darted around the lobby and finally landed on Calder. “Where is he?”
    “Pop’s fine, Pete—just relax,” Calder said, hands out in the hopes of slowing his brother’s angry charge for the check-in desk.
    “Don’t tell me to relax, dammit.”
    Marie touched her husband’s arm to calm him. “Baby, please.”
    “What?” Pete demanded. “I’m just so sick of this crap.”
    “I know you are,” said Calder. “We are all. That’s why we need to get Pop help.”
    “ Pop ?” Pete squinted at him. “I’m not talking about Pop. I’m talking about these damn doctors who want to bring him in here at the drop of a hat just to milk more money out of us on tests he doesn’t need!”
    Calder blew out a ragged breath. Christ. He wasn’t rested enough to travel this tired road with his brother tonight.
    “Wait here, Mare, I’ll go get him,” Pete said, taking Marie by the elbow and pointing her to the square of chairs to their left.
    Marie did as she was told