THE RAIN TAPPED gently against the windows of the city hospital, washing the glass in silver streaks.
“It’s raining again,” said Artemis as she sat in the breakroom.
The smell of antiseptic and brewed coffee clung to the sterile air of the breakroom.
Artemis closed her eyes. It’s been two weeks since Theo left. She had not heard anything from him. She missed Theo so much. Though she was suspicious of Theo’s identity, she missed him even more.
Artemis sipped her coffee, her white coat wrinkled from a 36-hour shift, her stethoscope resting heavily around her neck.
In her hands, a letter, cream-colored and sealed with a wax emblem she didn’t recognize—a mountain crest circled by what looked like thorns and wings.
She had already opened it three times.
And read it even more. The l
