Chapter 136

Sloane pushed the ward door open with her shoulder and slipped back into the corridor, the takeout bag warm against her palm. Dominic was exactly where she’d left him. He stood by the window at the end of the hall, sleeves rolled to his forearms, the soft overhead lights tracing the lines of muscle across his back. The shirt he wore fit like it had been tailored on his body, clean, sharp, expensive. He looked like he’d walked out of a boardroom and into a war zone without bothering to change expressions. A cigarette burned between his fingers. The smoke curled around him, then thinned like it hit an invisible wall. His head was slightly bowed, eyes lowered, jaw locked. If she stretched out with that strange, extra sense that had started growing louder in her lately, she could feel him without looking, like static in the air, keyed to a particular frequency only she and things like him could hear. Her footsteps tapped against the tile. His hand flinched. Ash spilled from the end of the