“Statements that can be construed as epically . . . romantic.” She said romantic the way one would say swamp.

“I’ll try.”

“You might be able to help me by explaining the differentiation of responsibilities of the nurses who cared for me right after I was born.”

“As I recall, you were immediately taken to the postpartum nursery.”

“Yes.”

“So it’s very likely two distinct groups of nurses were involved. The nurses assigned to labor and delivery and the nurses assigned to the nursery.”

“Would I have been taken to the nursery by the labor and delivery nures?”

“Yes.”

“What would have occurred then?”

“The nurses assigned to the nursery and the staff pediatrician would have treated you.”

“On my paperwork, I found the names of two labor and delivery nurses and two nursery nurses. I’m researching all four of them in hopes of gaining a more complete picture of the circumstances.”

“Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

Leah dabbed her lips evasively.

“Please let me know if there’s anything I can do,” he reiterated.

“If I do, I’ll be more indebted to you.”

“Good. That will benefit my evil master plan.” He gave her a slightly wicked smile.

“Let’s talk about you now,” she said.

“Let’s not.”

“I might not be a dating expert—” she began.

“I think you are,” he cut in. “This is the best date I’ve ever had.”

“You are not allowed to make epically romantic statements!”

Sebastian laughed, then took an unrepentant sip of his drink.

“I might not be a dating expert,” she said, trying again, “but common courtesy demands that we spend half our time talking about me and half talking about you, does it not?”

“I find you to be a million times more interesting than I find myself.”

“If so, that would make you an extremely rare person. Everyone prefers to talk about themself.”

“Not me.”

“I’d like to hear, from the horse’s mouth, so to speak, about the miracle part of the Miracle Five.”

“What would you like to know?”

“Well, it seems as if the first eight days in the collapsed basement were a bit of a status quo.”

“They were. It was dark and hot and dusty. The only thing that changed during that time was our access to water. We didn’t have any. And then we did.”

“Thanks to your ingenuity.”

“Thanks to my stubbornness,” he corrected. “The quake exposed a pipe. I was determined to break the pipe open even though it was just as likely to carry sewage as water.”

“But it carried water, which allowed you to survive.”

“Yes.”

“I’d like to hear about your last few hours in the basement.”

He pressed his shoulders into his chair’s back. The open collar of his shirt formed a V around the indentation between his collarbones. She had an urge to trace that groove with a fingertip.