Yates Donovan hadn't slept all night.
After taking Mia Grant back to school, he returned to his car and sat there alone, stunned, for over two hours.
He was only startled awake when a campus security guard, thinking something was wrong, came over and knocked on his window. Then, he drove away.
On the balcony, the man smoked one cigarette after another.
The pack was quickly emptied.
The half-smoked cigarette he'd used to suppress his emotions during dinner with Mia Grant, it turned out, hadn't worked at all.
In the distance, the sky was already turning the pale white of dawn.
He crushed out his cigarette, grabbed his phone, and sent a message to Dr. Quinlan.
Something came up. Can't make it today.
It wasn't until a little after eight in the morning that Dr. Quinlan saw the message from Yates Donovan, and his brow furrowed.
He had no idea what had gotten into his nephew this time.
He was supposed to have come to his office yesterday, right after returning from abroad.
