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you’re okay?”
    Instead of answering, Sara wrapped his arm around her shoulders. She was a few inches shorter than Will, which meant she fit like a puzzle piece under his arm. He felt her hand slip up under his suit jacket. She hooked her thumb over the top of his belt, just shy of his Glock. They passed the usual foot traffic in the neighborhood—joggers, occasional couples, men pushing baby strollers. Women walking dogs. Most of them were on their cell phones, even the runners.
    Sara finally spoke. “I lied to you.”
    He glanced down at her. “About what?”
    “I didn’t pull an extra shift at the hospital. I stayed around because …” Her voice trailed off. She looked out into the street. “Because no one else was there.”
    Will didn’t know what else to say but, “Okay.”
    Her shoulders went up as she took a deep breath. “An eight-year-old boy was brought in around lunchtime.” Sara was the pediatric attending in Grady’s ER. She saw a lot of kids in bad shape. “He OD’d on his grandmother’s blood pressure meds. He took half her ninety-day supply. It was hopeless.”
    Will kept silent, giving her time.
    “His heart rate was less than forty when they brought him in. We lavaged him. We ran through the glucagon. Maxed out on dopamine, epinephrine.” Her voice got softer with each word. “There was nothing else I could do. I called the cardiologist to put in a pacemaker, but …” Sara shook her head again. “We had to let him go. We ended up shipping him to the ICU.”
    Will saw a black Monte Carlo coasting down the street. The windows were down. Rap music shook the air.
    Sara said, “I couldn’t leave him alone.”
    His attention moved away from the car. “Weren’t the nurses there?”
    “The ward was already packed.” Again, she shook her head. “His grandmother wouldn’t come to the hospital. Mom’s in jail. Dad’s unknown. No other relatives. He wasn’t conscious. He didn’t even know I was there.” She paused a moment. “It took him four hours to die. His hands were already cold when we moved him upstairs.” She stared down at the sidewalk. “Jacob. His name was Jacob.”
    Will chewed at the inside of his mouth. He’d been in and out of Grady as a kid. The hospital was the only publicly funded facility left in Atlanta.
    He said, “Jacob was lucky to have you.”
    She tightened her grip around him. Her gaze was still lowered, as if the cracks in the sidewalk needed further study.
    They walked on, both silent. Will felt a weight of expectancy. He knew that Sara was thinking about Will’s childhood, the fact that his own life could’ve ended the same way Jacob’s had. Will should at least acknowledge this, remind her that the system had done better by him than most. But he couldn’t find the words.
    “Hey.” Sara tugged at the back of Will’s shirt. “We should probably turn around.”
    She was right. The foot traffic had thinned out. They were nearing Boulevard, which wasn’t the best place to be this time of day. Will glanced up, blinking at the bright sun. There were no tall buildings or skyscrapers blocking the light. Just rows and rows of government-subsidized housing.
    Techwood had been like this neighborhood up until the mid-nineties, when the Olympics had changed everything. The city had razed the slums. The inhabitants had been moved farther south. Students lived in the upscale apartment buildings now.
    Students like Ashleigh Snyder.
    Will spoke before he could stop himself. “Why don’t we go up that way?”
    Sara gave him a curious look. He was pointing toward the projects.
    He said, “I want to show you something.”
    “Around here?”
    “It’s just a few blocks this way.” Will pulled at her shoulder to get her going again. They crossed another street, stepping over a pile of litter. Graffiti was everywhere. Will could practically feel the hair standing up on the back of Sara’s neck.
    She asked, “Are you sure about this?”
    “Trust me,”