She’d spent every waking moment since grade school being the best at everything. And she was. Exhaustively cultured, educated to the hilt, and driven beyond reason. One month shy of twenty-eight, she was poised to one day become the leader in cardiovascular surgery. A legacy her parents had all but ensured.

Her perfect life.

Ha! Her perfect life was a frigging wreck.

Somehow she’d reached a turning point. She couldn’t hide any longer behind that confident exterior she’d worked so hard to create. For the first time in her life, the rules she lived by had changed. And she was terrified.

Gary, who’d been silent, finally spoke. “Gwen, take a few days, lay off the exercise and relax. I have a feeling you’ll see things more clearly. Whatever this is about, running away isn’t the answer.”

Gwen knew he was trying to be helpful. But he was dead wrong. Leaving seemed to be her only answer. She felt she’d reached her pinnacle. Her goals were attained, and for a reason she couldn’t comprehend, it seemed her career drive had come to its end. It was the personal drive she always repressed that called to her now.

Those images she once embraced only at night now filled her days, and a need she couldn’t suppress beckoned to her as never before. And it seemed imperative she reach for it. Now.

“For me, Gary, it’s the only answer.”

“What’s that sound?” Frank demanded.

Gwen stopped her foot before it made contact with the floor again. She didn’t say anything else. She’d made her point. She was leaving.

“I won’t have it, Gwen,” Frank stressed indignantly. “This misguided assumption that you can walk away.”

“Misguided? Are you serious, Frank?” Gwen came out of her chair, her hands on the table as she leaned forward. “You can’t keep me here. I don’t care about your prized institution anymore. I don’t care that I have a contract. And I sure as hell don’t care that I’m walking away from my accomplishments. They’re mine.” Gwen started for the door. Her hand covered the handle as her superior’s voice carried from the chair.

“If you walk, Gwen, we’ll sue.”

Gwen opened the door. “Then I’ll see you in court.” She didn’t look back.

She would never look back.

April 25, 1536

Greylen MacGreggor was aware of the impending dawn. An awareness so acute it bordered on pain. Shadows still played within the last recess of restless slumber, shadows that haunted him for most of his life. ’Twas always in the last seconds of semiconsciousness he found himself reaching into the darkness. A futile hope that something tangible would be within his reach. Yet each day he arose, ’twas emptiness that greeted him.

This day was no different.

Realizing the barren truth, he threw the covers aside and sat on the edge of his bed. Feet on the floor, elbows on his knees, he rested his head in his hands but a moment. Then, as he did every morning, he brushed his fingers harshly through his hair before he stood.