Dr. Olivia Harrington (The Harrington Surgeons #4)

Prologue

The desert wakes slowly, like a woman stretching beneath linen sheets—soft, golden, and full of secrets.

She laces her boots with hands that don’t shake anymore.

Her bags are packed. Not just the ones she’ll take, but the ones she’s left here that are stuffed full of other people’s expectations, unspoken promises, and guilt worn thin from overuse. She’s not dragging those across state lines. Not this time.

She stands at the edge of the dirt road, the same one she arrived on weeks ago, maybe months. Time’s strange here. Softer. Less cruel.

There’s a figure in the doorway behind her, but she doesn’t turn around. Not yet, not fully.

The sky is rose-gold, and everything smells like warm sagebrush and the kind of morning that’s earned. There’s a truck waiting at the bottom of the hill, engine purring like it knows this departure matters.

She breathes in deeply.

And just for a moment, doubt flickers. Not fear or regret, just that old habit of holding still when the world wants her to move. Of staying when she should go.

But she isn’t that woman anymore.

“I’ll see you,” she whispers—not goodbye, never that—and steps forward.

She doesn’t look back.

She doesn’t need to.