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Shaking off the chill that inevitably consumed her, she reached for a disposable paper cup and poured herself a cup of the hearty brew. Forgoing the grainy creamer, she reached for a couple packets of sugar. She tore them open and dumped them into her cup. Maybe she should just spring for a new coffee maker herself to keep in the break room. One of those where they brewed individual cups. Or maybe she could take this one home and scour it clean, and then hide away her own supply of coffee that actually tasted like something potable.

Deep in thought and plotting her coffee revolution to distract her from her morbid thoughts about her stalker, she didn’t realize that she’d added two more packets of sugar—or that she was being watched.

Until a prickle slid down her spine.

“We meet again.”

The voice came from behind her—too close, too smooth. Steeling herself, she turned. Tate leaned against the doorframe, one shoulder propped casually against the metal jamb, hands buried in the pockets of his scrubs. Despite the busy morning, he had nary a hair out of place, and his scrubs were remarkably clean and devoid of wrinkles. She frowned. “Did you change your clothes?”

“I’m glad you noticed the effort I made to look nice for you.”

“For me?”

Tate’s smile looked easy, but his eyes didn’t match. They were sharp, fixed on her face, then on the cup in front of her. “Guess you like things extra sweet.” His gaze lingered a beat too long.

Polly dumped the whole thing out in the sink. It wasn’t drinkable, and with Tate there, she felt the walls closing in. She needed some alone time—or at least, some non-Tate time. “Nothing can help this coffee,” she joked, trying to keep her tone light and impersonal. Polly forced a polite smile, sidestepping him to reach the doorway. “I’m heading down to the cafeteria to grab something to eat. I’ll be back in ten, fifteen minutes, tops, if someone asks for me.”

“Want some company?”

“No!” Wow. That came out loud and forced. She swallowed and tried for a less emotional response. “No. We’ve got too many patients and can’t spare more than one of us at a time. The supervisor said she’d schedule regular breaks for us since we worked through lunch. I’d better get moving before my time is up.”

“I’ll let the powers that be know where you are. I’m happy to do you the favor.”

“Uh, thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” He pushed off the frame and let her pass, his grin widening as if he’d just won some unspoken round.

Out in the hallway, Polly’s pulse kicked up. She kept walking, the smell of bitter coffee still filling her nose. Tate’s presence hovered around her like a shadow that refused to fade.

She glanced over her shoulder once.

He was still there—standing half in the doorway and half in the hallway, watching like a ghost haunting her every step.

She thought about Gerald’s odd remarks about ghosts watching her, talking about her in the shadows where she couldn’t see them. Had the homeless man seen Tate watching her? Overheard him talking to someone else about her? Was Tate her stalker? Had the man terrorizing her been working right beside her all these months?

Polly’s breath quickened, grew shallow. She turned the corner and forced herself not to run down the hall toward the cafeteria.

Before the fear could make her completely lightheaded, she ducked inside a public restroom, pressed her back against the cool tile wall and pulled out her phone. Even just pulling up Daniel’s number made it easier to breathe, to focus, as she typed out a text.

Creepy guy is hitting on me again. He won’t take no for an answer. Feel like coming to St. Luke’s and punching him out for me?

She wondered if Daniel was still in his meeting at precinct headquarters, or if he was out shoveling snow or doing other work for his neighbor. But his response popped up immediately.

Absolutely.

She sobbed a tearless sigh of relief and typed. That was a joke. I’m not typically a proponent of violence. And I wouldn’t want you to do anything that might trigger another flashback.

She waited for the three dots to turn into his response.

If he’s bothering you again, I don’t think that’s funny. I’m not afraid to do what’s necessary to protect you.

But she wasn’t going to risk his mental health or him getting arrested for her safety. I just wanted to hear from you. We’re slammed at work, so I probably wouldn’t be able to talk to you ’til I’m off shift anyway. I’ll be okay.

If you need me, I’m there.

Just say something nice and reassure me I’ll see you later.

She waited in anticipation as the three dots indicated he was typing a response.