“Yeah, that’s sinking in, Tal.” Kylee jumped when a loud bang came from the building on her right. She read GUNSMITH on the sign, and it hit her: that had to be Frank Freund’s place. Where her rifle and pistol had been made. She reached back, touching the butt stock where it hung over her shoulder between the packs. For the first time, she felt a connection to this place that didn’t make it so alien.

Ahead of them, Step Allenovich had pulled the cart up at the double doors of what had to be the hospital. Not that Kylee had ever really seen it from the outside. The last time she went through those doors, she’d been pain-dazed and drugged.

A woman rushed out. Tall, black hair. That—and the way she was dressed—placed her in Kylee’s mind: Raya Turnienko. She immediately bent over Tip’s body, shooting questions at Madison.

The doctor, Step Allenovich, and Madison had Tip’s litter up and went charging through the door. Kylee hurried ahead, pushing through the double doors, past the waiting room and offices, and down the familiar hall. God, it was almost a relief. Here was a place she knew. The only difference was that more of the lights were working in the ceiling.

At the surgery door, Stepan Allenovich stopped her cold as he exited the room, the litter in his hands. “Whoa, there,” he called, fixing her with curious eyes.

“I need to be in there with Tip.”

“Kylee, right?” Allenovich continued to block the door, looking up as Talina came hurrying down the hall. “Raya and Vik Lawrence are prepping the kid. Even Madison’s going to be kicked out before they start cutting.”

“But, I—”

“No visitors,” Step said, beetling his brow to emphasize his point. “Not even the famous Kylee Simonov.”

Famous?

“Kylee?” Talina laid a hand on her quivering shoulder. “There’s nothing you can do in there.” To Allenovich, she asked, “How long?”

“No telling. Raya and Vik have their heads together muttering about tissues and immune responses. Cheng’s standing by in the lab along with Shanteel Jones. Everyone’s waiting to see what’s in the kid’s leg. My bet? If they’ve got the boy stabilized by supper, it’ll be a miracle.”

Kylee figured she’d just push her way past, started to when Talina’s hard hand clamped on her shoulder and pulled her back. Kylee’s quetzal response was to wheel and hammer Talina in the pit of the stomach; it short-circuited when the woman ordered, “Back down and cool off. Now.”

Kylee swallowed, heart thumping against her breastbone as she stared into Talina’s implacable dark eyes. “That’s Tip in there.”