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true.”
    â€œWhat’s true?” she asked miserably.
    â€œDoctors and nurses make terrible patients.”
    â€œTo tell you the truth, I’ve never been a patient.”She paused a moment before broaching a very delicate subject. “What kind of patient were you?”
    â€œThe impatient kind, to hear my brothers tell it.”
    She liked the mellow tone of his voice and the way he didn’t take himself too seriously. She wished he would keep talking. “Kipp said you have two brothers.”
    â€œKyle and Braden. Between us we had one father and three mothers, all of whom have a wide array of yappy little dogs that are obnoxiously high-strung, and too many grandmothers and aunts to officially count, most of whom are also obnoxiously high-strung. Kyle calls the women in the family The Sources because they leak information when it suits their hidden agendas. I don’t know how much my mother told you about me.”
    Obviously he hadn’t called his mother. If he had, he would know she’d had nothing to do with Madeline’s arrival in Gale.
    â€œRiley, she didn’t—”
    â€œWhy don’t you tell me what you already know.”
    I knew the sound of your heart beating before it was yours, and the way it felt beneath the palm of my hand.
    If only she could say that out loud. But she couldn’t do that without explaining how she’d discovered his identity.
    Her memories of that horrible day never recurredin their natural order. Instead they flashed back randomly from out of the blue, blindsiding her every time. There was the E.R. doctor’s grave expression, the screech of a gurney, the specialist they called in to confer. Dread. Her frantic race to reach Aaron in time, the sting of her own tears. Dread. The discordant hiss and rattle of the machines doing what Aaron could no longer do, the results of the tests, the bitter taste of coffee. Dread.
    It went on for hours and hours. Gradually the seconds slowed then stopped altogether. It was over. One moment she’d been saying goodbye, and the next she was engulfed in a void so vast it sucked the air from her lungs, the sound from the room, and color from every surface. Summer believed Madeline had been having a panic attack. Madeline only knew that the pressure building in her chest had forced her from Aaron’s bedside and sent her clamoring for the stairs.
    Up and around and up and around she’d gone until she’d burst onto the hospital roof where a helicopter was readying for takeoff. She crept close enough to feel the wind from the blades, the whomp, whomp, whomp matching the horrible pressure in her chest. The hospital staff scurrying about paid no attention to her. Since she was wearing scrubs, she probably blended right in. She dazedly stepped asideas two men raced toward the helicopter. One carried a cooler; the other was talking on a cell phone.
    â€œETA one hour,” he said as he veered around her. “Prep Riley Merrick for surgery. His new heart is on the way.”
    The next thing she knew the helicopter was lifting. It hovered overhead, turned then disappeared in the midnight sky. All that remained in the ensuing stillness was the whomp, whomp, whomp of her heart and the whisper of Riley Merrick’s name.
    There were strict laws protecting patients’ identity. Even if it was legal, did she have the moral right to tell him about Aaron? Transplant recipients were always given the opportunity to obtain information about their donor. If Riley had wanted to know, he would have gone through the proper channels via his surgeon and the hospital. For whatever reason, he hadn’t. Madeline didn’t see what choice she had but to allow him to continue to assume she was here because of his mother.
    â€œAre you still awake?” Riley asked, bringing her from her reverie. Hearing her sigh, he said, “Why don’t you tell me something about you.”
    Seconds passed