“Do you need the ER?”

“No, I don’t need the motherfucking ER.”

“’Scuse me for asking.”

“You are not excused!”

“How glad am I that you’re on vacation and not my problem this week?”

“I’ll be in for a few hours tomorrow to keep things moving on Olsen.” He would understand, better than anyone, that it had taken less than five minutes for Audrey—and Wes—to become hers. Yes, she trusted her team to do right by their latest victim, but Sam needed to help. And then she’d go home and hang out with her husband and kids.

“Oh joy,” Freddie said in response to the news that she’d be in tomorrow.

Sam drove to the Judiciary Square station and pulled up to the curb. “Get out.”

“You have a good night, too.”

“Buh-bye now.”

Whistling the tune of “My Humps,” he closed the door and jogged toward the station with no worries about falling and busting his ass. Bastard. What should’ve been a ten-minute ride home stretched to thirty minutes because people could not drive in snow to save their lives. She witnessed four accidents and was glad they weren’t her problem. Patrol officers would have their hands full tonight.

By the time the distant glow of the White House came into view, her entire body hurt, and how was that possible when she’d cracked her hip and elbow? Was this the first time she was glad to see the place they now called home? “I think it is,” she said with a gruff chuckle. Knowing Nick and the kids were in there, along with a warm meal and a cozy fireplace, greatly improved her mood.

Until she moved to get out of the car.

Holy shitballs of pain, Batman.

She hobbled to the door, where Harold greeted her with a concerned expression.

“Are you all right, Mrs. Cappuano?”

That was a very good question. Was it possible she’d broken something? No, because she had no time for that. “I think so,” she said, eyeing the staircase to the residence, “but there’s an elevator, right?”

“Yes, ma’am. Right this way.” He not only led her to the elevator, but he accompanied her as if she couldn’t find the second floor on her own. God forbid she should push a button for herself. She no sooner had that thought than she was chastising herself for it. The White House staff took great pride in their work, and Sam appreciated everything they did for her and their family. “Are you sure you’re all right, ma’am?”

“Took a fall in the parking lot at work and landed hard, but I’m okay.”

“Ah, the ice got you, did it?”

“It did.”

“Sorry to hear that.” The elevator doors slid open. “There you are, ma’am.”

“Thanks for the lift, Harold.”

“My pleasure, ma’am. I hope you feel better.”

“Thanks. Me, too.”