"I know." He looked down into the chocolate in his cup. "You're a very sensitive young woman. I warned you that being a doctor might not be a good choice for you."

"You make me sound like some idiotic swooning Southern belle. It was a good choice. I've never wanted to do anything else with my life." Her lips tightened. "And I'm good at it, Phillip. I'll just have to get over this bump in the road. I can do it."

"I don't have the slightest doubt you can do anything you set out to do. I'm just hoping you can be objective enough to walk away if the going gets too rough for you."

She tilted her head. "As cool and objective as you are when your football team is losing?"

He chuckled. "Lord, I hope you do better that that, you scamp." He got to his feet. "Now I'll let you get to sleep." He moved toward the door. "And don't dream about that redneck nut who tried to run you off the bridge. He doesn't deserve another thought from you."

"He's going to get quite a few thoughts," she said grimly. "Drunks like that shouldn't be on the road. I hope to hell the police can track him down."

"Me too," Phillip said. "Just don't fret, okay?"

She smiled. " 'Fret' is a Southern belle word too. Watch it, Phillip."

"I guess I've been in Atlanta too long." He winked as he closed the door.

She felt a warm surge of love as she put down her cup and turned out the bedside light. The reason Phillip had stayed in Atlanta had been because he had not wanted to uproot Megan from the South after her mother's death. He had only been her mother's half brother and he didn't really have any responsibility toward Megan. But he had taken the responsibility anyway. He had chosen to uproot himself from his comfortable life in Seattle and settled down with her. He had told her that as a freelance engineer, he could work anywhere and he had always liked Atlanta's ambience. He had made it sound like an adventure instead of a sacrifice.

Bless him.

"Go to sleep." Phillip had poked his head in again. "Everything is going to be fine. All we have to do is work at it."

"I have to work at it," she corrected. "You've done enough for me. Now stop hovering and get some sleep yourself."

"Yes, ma'am." He softly closed the door again.

Her smile vanished and she tried to relax. As she had told Phillip, it was her job to take care of her own problems. And one of the problems was that she always had trouble sleeping after a traumatic evening. When she did sleep, she dreamed. Strange, disjointed, terrifying dreams.

She hoped to hell she wouldn't have them tonight.

PHILLIP WAITED UNTIL HE WAS sure Megan sleep was sound before he went into the living room and pulled out his cell phone.

It was near dawn but Neal Grady's voice was wide awake and alert when he picked up. The bastard had probably been expecting him to call, Phillip thought. "We may have a problem."

"That's no surprise. Since you haven't called me in the past three years." He paused. "Is she becoming volatile or erratic?"

"No, dammit, she's fine."

"Are you protesting too much, Phillip?"

"No, she's handling it, I tell you."

Silence.

"Okay, maybe she's a little volatile on occasion when she's faced with some of the things she deals with at the hospital."

"Mood swings?"

"I haven't noticed any."

"What about her personal life? I understand all that emotion could translate into high sensuality."

"I don't think so. Hell, don't you know?"

"I try not to know."

"Well, it's not the kind of thing she'd discuss with me."

"Maybe you should have persuaded her to discuss it. You should have discussed every possible sign of change. You know you have to be on the alert. Any nightmares?"

"Not many. A few after deaths of her patients. Nothing abnormal."

"I told you to steer her away from medicine."

"I tried. Megan's not easy to steer when her mind is made up. I was hoping she wouldn't make it through medical school. There's enough stress to discourage most people much less anyone as empathetic as Megan."

"You should have found a way. At least, you could have talked her out of choosing ER. Talk about high stress. I told you that you'd have to be careful when I turned her over to you."

"She thought she could make more of a difference in ER. Back off, Grady. You did turn her over to me and I've done a damn good job all these years. I don't need you sitting on your duff and criticizing me. Walk in my shoes for a while before you tell me what to do. Now shut up and listen. I didn't call to have you give me the third degree."

"Point taken. You're right. You've done an exceptional job." Grady paused. "Then if she's not showing signs that a change is coming, why are you calling me?"

"Molino may have found her."

"What?"

"I'm not sure. Someone driving a beat-up pickup truck tried to run her off the bridge tonight. The police think it was some local yahoo on a binge."

"Description?"

"She couldn't get a good look at him. He was just a silhouette against the freeway lights. Tall, thin, jeans, cowboy hat."

"Could the police be right?"

"Yes. But he kept hitting her, going after her. It sounds... determined."

"What's her reaction?"

"Anger. Indignation. She believes the cops are right. Just a drunk who deserves to be kept off the road." He tried to keep the anger from his voice. "You promised this wouldn't happen, Grady. You said they wouldn't find her."

"They shouldn't have found her. I buried every record on her and Sarah before I came to see you."

"Well, let's hope you didn't screw up. I'd say a mistake like that makes me not being able to talk her out of medical school look minor. What are you going to do about it?"

"Check it out. I'm in Paris right now. I'll take a flight as soon as I can tie things up here."

"Hurry. I'm not going to chance having them kill her." Phillip added deliberately, "It's time you took responsibility for her."

"You have no idea of the responsibility I've devoted to her over the years. Talk about a monkey on my back."

"I don't care about you. I care about Megan."

"That's why I chose you to look after her. You're all black and white, Phillip. Right is right. Wrong is wrong. I see too many shades of gray." He said wearily, "You've done a good job with her. I may not have stayed in touch, but I read every report you sent me. I wanted to hear good things about her. Believe me, I needed to see myself justified." He went on quickly, "And if it's Molino, he'll try again and again. You'd better tighten security just in case your redneck is bogus."

"You don't have to tell me that. I'll keep her alive and do what I can, but you'd better be prepared to step in if Molino does something to trigger Megan. That's one area where I can't help her." He hung up the phone and leaned back in his chair. He had done his job and told Grady of the threat but he wasn't sure if he felt any better about it.

Grady had always been something of an enigma to him. Yes, Phillip was grateful, but that didn't rule out resentment. He trusted his effectiveness but he had never been confident about which way he'd jump in a given circumstance. Maybe he had an instinctive rejection of the power he sensed in Grady. God knows, it wasn't as if he hadn't lived with some aspect of that power for most of his adult life. Grady's was just more intense and on a larger scope. He'd seen him do some pretty incredible things in the time he'd known him.