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and the sense of despair and frustration.
    She was right. He was being stubborn about this situation, despite his promise to Charles that he would try this time.
    “Okay, I’ll meet with her tomorrow and then decide where to go from there,” he said calmly.
    Nodding her approval, she wished him good-night and stepped outside, closing the door behind her.
    He walked back to the chair next to his bed and sat. He did find his new therapist intriguing and the fact that she was pleasant to the eye made her that much more appealing.
    So tomorrow he’d take the time to introduce himself...again. He could already imagine the look on her face when she discovered they’d already met.
    He could have done the right thing then and introduced himself, but he hadn’t been ready. Acknowledging her would be to acknowledge the possibilities.
    He didn’t want possibilities. He wanted a definite. Why should he go to all the trouble to exert himself when the outcome could leave him just as he was? There were no guarantees after all.
    Dominic headed for the shower. Tonight he’d go to bed early. It seemed as though he’d have to face the future...and a reality that he wasn’t sure he could handle.
    * * *
    Smoke billowed around him. He could not breathe, but he had to climb the stairs. While the fire had not spread yet to this part of the house, the stifling grayness slowed his progress. He’d had the good sense to soak the small towel with the contents of the bottle of water he’d had in the car.
    In the distance, he heard the sound of sirens. Good, they’d be here soon. And then he heard another sound, almost like the cry of a wounded animal. It must be the little girl.
    He pushed the door open, but it refused to budge. He pushed again and this time it creaked open, the hinges stiff from lack to oil.
    When he entered the room, he searched for movement in the thickening smoke but could not find her.
    “Where are you?” he shouted.
    “I’m in the bathroom,” the voice replied, followed by a bout of coughing.
    “I’m coming to get you.”
    “Please hurry. I’m scared.”
    He walked along the wall, feeling until his hands touched the door. He pushed it open.
    The little girl immediately hurled herself at him. He loosened the cloth around his mouth and nose and tied it around hers, telling her to only breathe when she needed to.
    He lifted her up and headed in the direction he’d come, but when he stepped into the hallway, the flames greeted him. He could feel the heat beneath him and above. He turned around and headed in the other direction, not sure where it would lead.
    And then he heard it—a loud creaking beneath him. Suddenly, he found himself falling into heat and darkness.
    * * *
    Dominic bolted awake. He’d been dreaming again. He cursed the night. When was this going to end? He’d saved the girl, so why was he being tortured by the memory of that night?
    Everyone thought he was a hero. So why couldn’t he get a good night’s sleep without the heat and pain of the memory?
    He rose from the bed, stepping onto the floor, pulling his left leg back when a sharp pain raced along it. He fell back to the bed, sweat pouring from his body, and waited until the pain subsided to the annoying throb he’d grown accustomed to.
    When he could finally stand, he shifted to the chair and picked up his iPad and started to read.
    It was only in the early hours of the morning, just before the sun rose, that he crawled back into bed and fell asleep.

Chapter 4
    A aliyah looked out to sea. Today the waves tossed angrily. On the horizon, dark clouds swirled. She could tell it was going to rain. The day had passed uneventfully. When she’d asked about her still mysterious patient that morning, Mrs. Clarke had told her he’d be meeting with her sometime during the day. She’d felt like screaming but instead had slowly walked away.
    After spending her day reading and watching the afternoon talk shows, she’d found herself heading to the