Chapter 13 - The ReconstructionTwo weeks later, the West Side of Chicago looked different.
The old brick building wedged between the laundromat and the pharmacy had been completely renovated. Fresh white mortar filled the cracks of the facade, new double-paned windows gleamed in the autumn sun, and a crisp, professional bronze plaque beside the oak door read: The Moretti-Brooks Community Medical Center.
Inside, the waiting room was bright, filled with fresh flowers, comfortable chairs, and an aging printer that actually worked on the first try.
Hannah stood behind the front desk, wearing a crisp white lab coat over her navy uniform, stamping a stack of patient intake forms.
"You're working too hard," a warm, familiar voice said from the doorway.
Hannah looked up to see Rebecca Lane walking in carrying a box of new diagnostic supplies.
"I'm not working too hard, Rebecca. I'm just finally working in a clinic that has working plumbing and a budget that doesn't rely on expired samples," Hannah laughed, setting her stamp down.
"True," Rebecca smiled, leaning against the counter. "And I heard the new benefactor stopped by this morning to check on the pharmacy inventory."
Hannah’s cheeks warmed slightly. "He's not a benefactor anymore. He's just... around."
"Around?" Rebecca raised an eyebrow. "Hannah, he bought out the entire commercial block just to ensure the clinic has private parking and security. If that's 'just around,' I'd hate to see what obsessive looks like."
Before Hannah could answer, the front door chimed.
A tall man in a tailored charcoal suit walked into the lobby. He wasn't carrying a weapon, and his overcoat was neatly folded over his arm. His gray eyes swept the room before finding Hannah behind the desk.
"Dr. Evans's old office," Damen said as he walked up to the counter, his lips twitching into a faint smile. "I heard you turned it into the staff breakroom."
"It has better lighting," Hannah replied, resting her elbows on the counter and looking up at him with a playful challenge in her eyes. "And more importantly, it's locked from the inside."
Damen stepped closer, leaning against the counter so only she could hear him. "Good. Because I have a question about your operational policies."
"What question?"
"Do the new rules allow the benefactor to take the head nurse out for dinner without a security detail following three cars behind?"
Hannah smiled—a real, radiant, completely unforced smile that made the shadows in Damen's eyes vanish entirely.
"Depends," she whispered, reaching across the counter to take his hand. "Does the benefactor promise to stop playing hero for at least one evening?"
May you like
Damen's fingers closed firmly around hers, his thumb brushing over her wrist where the bruises had finally, completely vanished.
"For you," he said softly, "I'll retire from saving the world entirely."
