Lucía gathered the two severed pieces of brass against her chest as if trying to shield a wounded bird.

By midnight, the gala had dissolved into chaos, the media was swarming the hospital’s entrance, and the board of directors had convened an emergency midnight session.

In a unanimous vote, the board stripped Guillermo Alcázar of all executive authority, suspended Renata’s medical credentials indefinitely, and appointed Dr. Mateo Salgado as interim Managing Director of Gulf University Medical Center.

Mateo, however, was nowhere near the executive boardroom.

He walked down the quiet, dimly lit corridor of the third floor, loosening his black bowtie and unbuttoning the stiff collar of his tuxedo shirt. He pushed open the door to Room 314.

Lucía was sitting on the edge of the bed. Teresa was awake, sitting propped up against her pillows, sipping a cup of warm chamomile tea.

When Mateo entered, Teresa set her cup down on the tray. Her eyes, filled with the wisdom of sixty hard years by the sea, watered with gentle tears.

"Mateo," Teresa whispered.

Mateo stopped at the foot of the bed. The brilliant, commanding surgeon suddenly looked like a bashful teenager. He bowed his head slightly. "Auntie Teresa."

"Come here, you stubborn boy," she smiled, holding out her arms.

Mateo stepped forward and knelt beside the bed, letting the old woman wrap her frail, warm arms around his neck.

"I knew your father," Teresa said softly, stroking his dark hair. "Alberto was a good man. An honest man. He would be so proud to see what your hands have done. You fought for his name, and you saved my life."

"You kept me alive when I was fourteen, Auntie," Mateo said, his voice thick with emotion. "I only returned the favor."

Teresa released him, looking back and forth between Mateo and Lucía. A knowing, affectionate smile spread across her lined face.

"My heart feels stronger than it has in twenty years," Teresa murmured, closing her eyes contentedly. "Now, both of you... get out of this room. The smell of hospital medicine gives me a headache, and I want to sleep without two lovesick fools staring at me."

Lucía blushed furiously. "Ma!"

Mateo laughed—a rich, genuine, unburdened sound that seemed to chase away twenty years of accumulated shadows. He stood up, caught Lucía’s hand in his, and gently pulled her toward the door.

"Come with me," he said.

"Where are we going?"