Chapter 6 · The License

"Give it back." I had my hand out before the door even finished sliding shut behind us.

Cassian didn't give it back. He set the folder on the kitchen island like it weighed nothing, like my whole life wasn't inside it, and poured himself a glass of water he didn't drink.

"Sloane." His voice was too calm for a man who'd just watched hunters put a crossbow bolt through a warehouse wall four feet from my head. "Sit down before you fall down."

"I'm not sitting." My hands were still shaking from the lake port, from the smell of blood that wasn't mine, from the way he'd hauled me over his shoulder like a duffel bag and run. "Open the folder."

He opened it. Slid it across the marble.

My name was on the top page. Hart Family Clinic — Transfer of Operating License. My clinic. The one I bled every double shift into, the one Ethan's pack let rot because a rejected medic wasn't worth funding.

"You bought it." My voice came out flat, disbelieving. "You bought my clinic."