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Finn leans against the wall, arms crossed, watching the entrance like someone's about to storm the place with guns blazing.

"You need to sit down," he says. "You're making me nervous."

"I need to do something, or I'll lose my mind." I crush the empty coffee cup and throw it at the trash can. I miss.

My phone buzzes with a text from Jack, who's watching Conor at the Kerry house.

Everything's fine. The kid wants to know when you're coming back.

I type a quick response.

Tomorrow if everything goes well. Let him play video games until bedtime.

"Any word from Cormac about Siobhan?" I ask Finn.

"She's been put away for now." His face gives nothing away.

"What does that mean?"

"It means you don't need to worry about her anymore."

I want to push for details but hold back. The less I know about Donovan family justice, the better. I'm still trying to process the fact that Declan asked Cormac not to kill his sister after what she did.

The doctor appears in the waiting room doorway. "Family of Declan Donovan?"

I rush over. "How is he?"

"The surgery went well. We cleaned out the infection and repaired the damaged tissue. He's in recovery now."

Relief washes through me. "When can I see him?"

"In about thirty minutes. A nurse will come get you." He glances at Finn hovering behind me. "Just one visitor at a time."

"I'll wait here," Finn says. "He won't want to see me first."

I follow the nurse to Declan's room an hour later. The sight of him knocks the wind out of me—pale as the sheets, IV dripping antibiotics, monitors tracking every heartbeat. I've seen hundreds of patients like this at the clinic, but it's different when it's him.

I check his chart at the foot of the bed. His vitals look stable, thank God.

"Hey," I say, taking his hand.

His eyes flutter open, unfocused at first, then finding me. "Maeve." His voice is rough from the anesthesia. "Conor?"

"He's fine. Safe with Jack in Kerry."

"Good." He squeezes my hand weakly. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"Making me come to a real hospital."

I laugh, the sound almost hysterical with relief. "You were burning up. What was I supposed to do, dump you in an ice bath?"

"Cormac would have."

"I'm not Cormac."

Declan's eyes drift closed. "No. You're better."