Chapter One
Dylan slammed the trunk of his car and released a weary sigh. He was exhausted, and the day had only just begun. His grandmother patted his shoulder and gave him a reassuring squeeze. Fixing his face, he turned toward her and plastered on his best fake smile. Her blue-gray eyes, identical to his own, narrowed. She saw right through it.
“You know, Dylan, there are many hospitals you could work at in New York. If I didn’t believe your moving to California with all those hippies was the best thing for you, I might beg you to stay.”
An unexpected laugh bubbled from his chest as he shook his head. His grandmother put up a good front about being accepting of different cultures and lifestyles, but try as she might, she was blue-blooded through and through. Growing up in one of the wealthiest families in New York had a way of doing that to a person. He had been like that once, before he lost her. The familiar hollowness that always came with her memory began to swell. He couldn’t deal with that right now.
“You’re the one who suggested I interview at Grace Hospital in the first place. If it weren’t for you, I never would have considered moving to California. Also,” Dylan exhaled. “I need a change, Grandmother. There are too many memories here. Too many ghosts.” When he noticed her frown, he looked away and pushed his messy dark blond hair out of his eyes. He needed a haircut. It was one of many things he'd neglected recently.
“I know you loved her, Dylan. I loved her too, but it's been six years. It's time to accept what happened and move forward.”
“Two,” he corrected, trying not to flinch. Her words felt like a physical blow. “Until two years ago, I still had hope that one day…” Dylan pulled in a deep breath and pushed his memories into the darkest corner of his mind. “That’s why I’m moving to California. Going to college at Penn State, staying close to home, those were things we were supposed to do together. I’ve lived the life we planned…without her. I thought it would get better, but it hasn’t. I need to go where everything I see doesn’t remind me of her.”
His grandmother’s eyes watered with emotion, and it killed him to think about leaving her. She’d always been the one person who never failed him, who always had his back.
“I understand. I’m just going to miss you.”
“You could come with me,” he offered, knowing she’d never do it. Manhattan was her home. She’d never leave.
She laughed and slapped his arm. “Have you been in your mother’s stash?”
He chuckled and handed her his black graduation cap, his gown flung over his shoulder. “Why don’t you hang on to this? We both know if I take it with me it’ll be lost before I cross the state line.”
She pulled the slick yellow strands of the tassel through her fingers and nodded. “Might as well give me that too,” she said, pulling his gown from his shoulder and draping it over her arm, the black material a stark contrast to her bright pink suit jacket. “I’m so proud of you, Dr. Walker.”
He ducked his chin and smiled. “Not quite yet. I’ve got four years of residency ahead of me.”
She rolled her eyes and huffed. “You know, you could have waited around for me to die like the others. Then you wouldn’t need all this schooling.”
“What happened to you being proud of me?”
She shot him a scolding look and pulled him into a hug, the smell of her perfume giving Dylan a sense of calm. “You have overcome so much. It's time to take back your life, Dylan. It’s time to follow your path. You can’t stay lost forever.”
He swallowed and hugged her tighter, his eyes squeezed shut. “I’ll call you when I get there.”
She sniffed and pulled back, her face wiped clean of emotion as she smoothed her curly cotton-white hair. “You’d better.” After a pause, she allowed the driver to help her into the back of her black Cadillac. As the car drove past, Dylan lifted his hand, a sad smile on his lips.
“We’re ready to load your car, Mr. Walker.”
Dylan turned toward the moving crew and tossed the keys to his BMW to the driver across from him. “Is there anything else you need?”
“No, sir. Once we load the car on the trailer behind the moving van, we’ll take off.”
“You have my number if you need anything?”
The man nodded. “We’ll see you in Sacramento in about a week.”
Dylan moved to the front steps of his townhouse and grabbed his suitcases. For a moment, he just stood there, looking at the details of the brickwork, the dark stain of the front door, and the small planters on either side filled with bright yellow daisies. Presley’s favorite. “You would have loved it here,” he whispered. “I hope wherever you are, you’re at peace.” With a final glance, he turned to the street where a town car waited by the curb.
As they made their way to the airport, he watched the passing scenery. The sidewalks and front stoops were littered with people, college students relaxing and enjoying the warm May weather. When he saw the top of Beaver Stadium in the distance, he dropped his head back and closed his eyes. He just wanted to forget this place and everything it represented. Just like New York.
Dylan groaned and rolled over, slapping the snooze button on his alarm before falling onto his back. The time change had been a brutal adjustment. It had become normal to wake up in the middle of the night then struggle to fall back to sleep. He threw the sheets back and planted his feet on the floor, the hardwood cool against his soles. He couldn’t let fatigue drag him down today. Today was the first day of his residency at Grace Hospital.
He was nervous. It wasn’t a typical teaching hospital like the ones most of his fellow graduates were going to to complete their residencies. This hospital had an entire wing dedicated to treating a variety of mental disorders. It was exactly the kind of place he wanted to be.
He didn’t want to cure cancer or perform heart surgery. What Dylan wanted was simple. He wanted to do for someone what he hadn’t been able to do for Presley all those years ago. He wanted to help people find their way back from the darkest parts of their mind. He wanted to give them hope. Make them want to live. Maybe then the pain would finally stop. Maybe then he could go one night without being haunted by the memory of the last time he saw her face, kissed her lips, held her in his arms.
“Fuck,” he gasped, his eyes stinging and his chest tight. “Get it together.” He pressed his palms against his eyes and ground his teeth together. It had been more than six years since he’d seen her face, and he still couldn’t think about her without feeling the crushing weight of her loss. Every day, he missed her. Every single day.
One foot in front of the other, he reminded himself as he stood from the bed. It was a familiar mantra, useless as it was. Something about the monotony of it propelled him forward, but only physically. Mentally, he had given up on himself a long time ago. He was here to help others now. He would do it for her. With that thought, he felt the familiar stirring of the drive and determination that propelled him through six exhausting years in Penn State’s fast track MD program.
He stretched his sore muscles and walked down the hall toward the kitchen. Boxes still littered every room, but thanks to his nightmarish sleep schedule, he’d made quite a bit of progress. The smell of coffee greeted him as he entered the kitchen. The timer was one of the first things he’d set up after moving in. It was also one of the smartest things he’d done.
With a wide yawn, Dylan scratched at the stubble covering the sharp line of his jaw as he looked around the room. Early morning sunlight poured through the large windows, reflecting off the stainless-steel appliances and dark granite countertops. It was far more house than he needed. A one-bedroom apartment would have been more suitable, but his grandmother was having none of that. He smiled at the memory of their argument. She reminded him she would need a room when she came to visit, and he relented. After a few weeks, he’d found a three-bedroom, three-bath house in a nice neighborhood only five minutes from the hospital. His grandmother wasted no time closing on the property. A graduation present, she called it. It was over the top and unnecessary, but it made her happy, and that was reason enough for Dylan not to fight her on it.
After coffee and breakfast, Dylan showered and dressed before making the short drive to the hospital. His leg bounced and his fingers drummed against the steering wheel as he stared at the enormous building. It had been almost a year since he’d first visited Grace to meet the Chief of Medicine and take his first in a series of board certification tests. He’d visited once more a few months later for his official interview. Something about being there felt different now. He wasn’t just a visitor. He wasn’t a college student looking for a residency. When he walked through the doors this time, it would be as an employee. A doctor. The realization scared the hell out of him.
One foot in front of the other, he reminded himself as he stepped out of the car and grabbed a stack of envelopes and folders from the passenger seat. The cool morning air caused a shiver to run down his spine and his steps to quicken to the entrance. Once inside, he pulled in a deep breath and relaxed his shoulders. Like any hospital, harsh fluorescent lights bounced off white commercial tiles. The familiarity was comforting as Dylan made his way across the room to the receptionist's desk.
“Can I help you?”
Dylan smiled at the pretty brunette behind the desk. “I’m here to see Dr. Edmonds.”
“Dr. Walker?” she asked, her smile widening when Dylan nodded. She stood and extended her hand. “I’m Jenny. It’s nice to finally put a face with the name. Dr. Edmonds stopped by earlier this morning and said to bring you up when you arrived.”
Jenny stepped out from behind the desk, and Dylan instinctively scanned her body. She was petite, the top of her head stopping mid-chest on Dylan’s six-foot frame. Her fitted skirt and silky yellow blouse hugged her in all the right places, but no matter how much he wanted to, he felt absolutely nothing. Meeting her gaze, Dylan smiled politely as she motioned for him to follow her to the elevator.
“This way.” An uncomfortable silence fell between them as they stepped inside the elevator. Jenny cleared her throat and turned toward Dylan. “So, you’re from New York?”
Dylan lifted his brow, the small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth causing his dimple to deepen. “I never said that.”
Jenny blushed and dipped her chin. “Shit. Sorry. I googled you.”
Dylan barked out a short laugh, surprised by her honesty. “What?”
Jenny rolled her eyes, her skin the color of a beet. “Dr. Edmonds has spoken very highly of you. I wanted to check you out. I swear I had no idea you were so hot— I mean young. Jesus Christ.”
Deciding to take pity on her obvious embarrassment, Dylan answered her question. “Yes, I’m from New York. I’m kind of out of my element here. Maybe you could tell me the best places to eat and shop?”
Jenny exhaled and gave him a grateful smile as she prattled on about restaurants, shopping, and where to grab drinks after work. When she mentioned the last bit, Dylan cut his eyes to the side and tried to hide his smile. He had no doubt that an invitation for after-work drinks was on the tip of her tongue when Dr. Edmonds stepped into the hallway to greet him.
“Dylan,” Dr. Edmonds boomed, patting Dylan’s shoulder and giving him a firm handshake. “It’s good to see you.”
Dylan smiled at the older man. “Likewise.”
“Why don’t you come inside where we can sit and chat?” Dr. Edmonds turned his attention to Jenny. “Thank you for bringing him up.”
“Of course. Dr. Walker, let me know if you want a list of places I mentioned.”
“Thanks. I might take you up on that,” Dylan answered with a nod before following Dr. Edmonds into his office. Pictures of his family covered almost every free space on the walls. Dylan eased into the seat across from the older man, noticing a few more gray hairs peeking through his dark brown curls than the last time they’d seen each other. With his hulking frame and sharp features, he looked more like a retired football player than a psychiatrist.
The first time they’d met, Dylan wondered how Dr. Edmonds managed to make patients feel comfortable enough to open up. When the doctor smiled, however, Dylan understood. His expression was so open, honest, and his eyes held such compassion that, had he asked, Dylan would have told him anything he wanted to know.
“So, how are you settling in?”
Dylan cleared his throat and gave the other doctor a weary smile. “The time change has been brutal, but I’m adjusting.”
Dr. Edmonds nodded and pushed a folder across the desk. “I wouldn’t worry too much about that. For the first few months, your hours will be erratic. Being awake all hours might actually come in handy.”
“I guess the next time I’m awake at two a.m., I won’t worry about restraining myself from turning on Netflix.”
“Attaboy,” Dr. Edmonds chuckled as he leaned back in his chair. “Do you have the paperwork I emailed you?”
“Yes, sir.” Dylan grabbed an envelope from his lap and passed it across the desk. “Everything should be in order.”
“Good, good,” Dr. Edmonds said, flipping through the pages. “The folder I just gave you is information about benefits and such that you can look over when you’re up all hours of the night. If that stuff doesn’t put you right back to sleep, I don’t know what will.”
Dylan laughed and grabbed the folder. “Now what?” A bubble of nerves began to expand inside Dylan’s chest. This was it.
Dr. Edmonds stood and moved to the door. “Meetings and more meetings. First, with the other incoming residents, and then, with the staff. You’ll be given a tour along with your schedule. It's all quite boring but entirely necessary.”
Dylan nodded and followed Dr. Edmonds into the hall. “Meetings it is.”
Over the next couple of weeks, Dylan slowly adjusted to his new schedule. Although he wasn’t sure schedule was the right word. There was no method to the madness of the shifts he’d been assigned, even though it wasn’t unexpected. It reminded him of his internship his final year of medical school. That was the first time he’d truly understood the importance of coffee. He looked at the cup in his hand, a wry smile on his lips as he blew on the steaming liquid.
“I think I could fall asleep standing up.”
Dylan’s head shot up. “Jesus. You scared me.” He moved over as Joel, one of his fellow residents, fell into the chair next to him and laid his head on the break room table.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, his jet-black hair falling over his face, partially shielding his bloodshot brown eyes. “I’m about one step away from hallucinating. They’ll have me locked up with everyone else if I’m not careful.”
Dylan frowned and slid his untouched cup of coffee to Joel. “Here. I’ll grab another cup.”
Joel sighed and pushed up from the table as he grabbed the coffee. “Thanks.”
Dylan filled another cup and returned to the table. For several minutes, the pair sat in silence, waiting for the effects of the caffeine to kick in. Joel kicked the chair across from him, stretching out his long legs and propping up his feet. Slumping down, he let out a tired groan.
“I know the hours suck, but why are you so tired?” Dylan asked. They had worked the same shift for the last week, and even though he was tired, he was nothing like Joel.
Joel sighed. “I’ve been moonlighting at another hospital called The Hilltop Institute.”
Dylan raised his brows. “How in the hell can you manage another job? Do you ever sleep?”
Joel shrugged. “I don’t have a choice. Bills to pay and all that. Also, I’d give my left nut to get hired on at Hilltop once I complete my residency here at Grace.”
Intrigued, Dylan leaned forward. He and Joel had been paired together for more than a few cases, so he knew Joel was interested in the same career path. “Yeah? Why’s that?”
“Because it’s a psych’s dream job,” Amy said, walking into the break room and filling a cup with coffee. “I’ve been trying to pick up hours there for months, but my schedule here never works with the hours they need people. And, unlike Joel, I actually need more than one or two hours of sleep.” Falling into the seat next to Joel, Amy released a satisfied exhale as she sipped her drink. Her fine blond hair was pulled back into a ponytail, her light blue eyes rimmed with dark circles. Her tired eyes made her small frame seem frail, even though Dylan had learned she was anything but. Like Joel, Amy was a second-year resident at Grace. While Dylan was friendly with the other residents, he’d seemed to gravitate to Joel and Amy. Likely because they were both going into psychiatry.
“What’s so great about it?”
Joel smiled. “First, they have the best facilities in the state. Hell, possibly the country. It’s a private hospital, but Dr. Edmonds is on the board, so we’re able to work under his affiliation. It’s really exclusive. Lots of celebrities have checked in there for one reason or another, but it's not a hideout for rich people to go through rehab. It’s for people with serious issues who want complete anonymity.”
“And it's called The Hilltop Institute?”
Joel nodded. “Hilltop for short.”
Dylan shook his head. “I’ve never heard of it.”
“That’s not surprising. If you’re looking to pick up some extra hours, you should mention to Dr. Edmonds that you’re interested. I’ll be honest, you’re nothing more than a glorified nurse over there. You don’t treat patients, but it’s still totally worth it. Some of the cases there will really push the boundaries of your thinking.”
Dylan looked at his watch and stood. “Well, right now, I better worry about the job I have. I’m going to make rounds.”
“Are we still on for drinks tomorrow night?” Joel asked.
Dylan shook his head in disbelief. “Are you sure you’re up for it?”
Joel shrugged. “I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”
“Then, I’ll see you tomorrow night. You can tell me more about Hilltop.”
“You got it.”
As Dylan made his rounds that night, he couldn’t stop thinking about his conversation with Joel. He didn’t need the money, but after busting his ass through school with overloaded schedules, endless hours of studying, and his internship, he found he had more free time on his hands than he’d had in years. It gave him too much time to think. Maybe picking up hours at a place with more challenging patients would help him finally put the past behind him.