But your first instinct was that it was genetic? Morgan leaned forward, elbows on the table supporting him. Shed been so close. What had stopped her? What had she let get in her way? Why not pursue that fully before switching to a different avenue of thought?

Lexa sighed. I was worried I was wasting my time looking at genetic possibilities and thought I should hedge my bets.

Ah. Morgan got the picture. There is no bet hedging in this business. Its literally life and death every day. You have to have the courage of your convictions. You have to learn to trust yourself.

I . . . Im just not sure how to do that. Theres so much I still dont know, Lexa said.

And thats why youre a resident working under an attending physician. Most residents wouldnt have made it anywhere near as far as you did. I know. Ive trained more than a few. He knew he had a knack for figuring out the tricky diagnoses, the ones with multiple factors. He suspected that Lexa would, too. She had that kind of brain. She just needed a bit more time, a little more experience under her belt. Shed get there and it would be a pleasure watching her grow and develop. Working with her had brought back some of the delight hed always taken in his work that hed found hard to reach lately. You should go home. Get some sleep. After, of course, you schedule me in for that angiogram on Vincenzo.

Lexa frowned at him. You're going to do it yourself?

Best way I know of to make sure it's done right. The only way to make sure it was done right. His opinion of Ayres might have risen some, but not that far yet.

Lexa pushed back her chair. You'll be going home soon, then, too?

He nodded. Of course.

He smiled at Lexa, not wanting her to know that the thought of returning to his apartment, and what he had to do when he got there tonight, filled him with a sense of dread.

CHAPTER THREE

Morgan got off the elevator on the fifth floor and stared down the hallway of his apartment building. No wonder he spent so much time at the hospital. Blank walls marred only by the occasional scrape from someones bicycle as theyd wheeled it out of the building. Blank doors on each side. No windows. No skylights. No personality. It was a place for people who were passing through, the only marks they made accidental, anonymous.

Home should be a refuge, a place to replenish and reenergize. His characterless generic apartment was anything but that. It was one more thing that drained him, that sucked the marrow right out of his bones. Night after night, he convinced himself that it was temporary, but he was pretty certain that tonights conversation with Ashley would put an end to that delusion.