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care about his constituents?
    “I assure you, Reeny, your father is perfectly safe.”
    “And how the hell would you know?” Corbin gasped at her swearing and she decided she should do it more often. “Lucretia said he's taken ill.”
    “He has the very best doctors. At the very least, get your flu shot before you go traipsing off to play Florence Nightingale.”
    Dorene hated to admit it, but that wasn't a bad idea. She just wished he could dish his advice with some decency.
    “I'll go to the clinic up at school today, let my professors know I have a family emergency, and leave first thing in the morning.” Not that her professors would care. Law professors, like lawyers themselves, were short on sympathy. She'd have to get course notes from a friend and send her work in electronically.
    He let out his breath and it whistled through his nose. It was a sure sign he was frustrated when he sounded like a tea pot. “Have you forgotten the benefit tomorrow night?”
    “No. I haven't forgotten, but I'm placing my father in a higher-priority position.”
    She walked away from him, then. She couldn't look at him anymore.
     
    The health clinic at Tulane was swamped, but Dorene had brought a stack of briefs she'd been intending to read for a mock trial she was preparing for. If her father didn't recover soon, it would be a moot point because she wouldn't be back for it, but she could hear his voice lecturing her in her head. “Law is a hard path for a young woman, Dorene. Those boys will have every advantage. You need to work harder and smarter if you want to keep your edge.”
    He was right. She couldn't afford not to stay on top of her work. But she'd always been a daddy's girl and she had a nagging feeling about this flu. In twenty-three years she'd never seen her father driven to bed by any illness. And Lucretia, their housekeeper for as long as Dorene could remember, wasn't typically paranoid—doting, yes, but she knew Senator Radcliff was too busy for a fuss if he didn't need it. And she didn't ask anything of Dorene unless it was serious. What she'd said on the phone was, “you need to come home.”
    The line for the flu shot was fast, considering she'd been some sixty people back when she walked in. It smarted a little, but there was a sense of freedom when she was done. She could pack and head home. Maybe she'd even go tonight. It would take all night, but something about it appealed to her—made her feel rebellious like she hadn't in several years. She'd be there first thing in the morning.
     
    There were a dozen roses waiting when she got to her apartment. Corbin probably didn't think he'd done anything wrong, but he knew she thought so. Not for the first time, she felt burning anger at this latest act of contrition. Whenever he did it, it made her sure he was courting 'the senator's daughter' instead of Dorene Radcliff, the smart, pretty law student. Every decision Corbin made was about power and Dorene's power was in her bloodline. It didn't stem from any abilities or characteristics she had.
    She left the roses on the landing in the hallway and went inside to pack. Let him think he'd missed her.
    The road to Atlanta was crowded at first, but traffic died out as she got away from New Orleans. She drove and drank coffee, stopping when she needed to, but feeling energized by what she was doing. As she hit the outskirts of Atlanta, the sun turned the sky to a blaze. The traffic that had dwindled as she drove was reappearing, most of it heading away from the city. It made her feel like she was going the wrong way. The temperature had dropped as she headed north. A front in the gulf must have been holding off the winter that was trying to encroach on the rest of the US.
    It was 9 AM when she pulled into their long, circular driveway; Lucretia rushed out to meet her, short and plump, arms spread wide like a mother hen.
    “Thank the sweet lord you're here, Miss Dorene! You must have drove all night! The doctor is