"The end." Julie closed the picture book and handed it to Sophia, who climbed off the twin bed and walked to her bookshelf. She returned the book to its spot, but when she reached for another one, Julie shook her head. "Time to go to sleep, kiddo. No more stories tonight."

Already dressed in her favorite pink pajamas, Sophia turned a pout Julie's way. "Not tired."

"I know." Julie slid off the bed and knelt beside her. "I'll tell you what. If you go to sleep now, I'll wake you up early, and we can read a few more before breakfast. Okay?"

Sophia's lips curved into a smile. "Kay. Tuck me in?"

"Yes," Julie said. "I'll tuck you in."

Sophia crawled into her smaller toddler bed, and Julie pulled the soft blanket up to her chin. "I'm going to go help Mommy clean up. Then, I'll come to bed too." Julie hugged her little sister and kissed her freshly scrubbed cheek. "Good night, kiddo."

"Night," Sophia said, grabbing her bunny and rolling to her side.

Julie crept down the hall on tiptoe, avoiding the floorboards that always creaked. Timothy had been fussy from teething, and Natalie had just gotten him to sleep a few minutes earlier. Slinking downstairs, she joined her mother in the kitchen. She picked up the empty pizza box, threw it in the trash, and began to wipe off the counters.

After a few minutes, Julie's attention was drawn to Natalie, who was staring out the kitchen window, her hands motionless as they rested on the bowl in the sink. The thunder and lightning had passed. The rain was the only remnant of the evening storm, its pattering on the glass a steady rhythm, like a heartbeat echoing in the now-quiet house.

Julie stepped to Natalie's side. "Mom?"

"Hmm?"

"No word from Dad?"

Natalie shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts, and reached for a clean towel to dry the bowl. "No. I thought about trying to call, but I don't want to interrupt something important."

"You're worried about him, aren't you?"

She returned the bowl to the cupboard without letting Julie see her eyes. "No … No, I'm sure everything's fine. He'll call if it gets much later." She hoped the tremor in her voice didn't give her away.

Julie rinsed the dishcloth under a stream of water and rung it out. It was her turn to stare out the window. "Mom …"

Natalie hung the towel to dry. "Yes?"

"Are … are you sure it's okay for me to invite Benjy to Uncle Ambrose's wedding?"

Natalie smiled, thankful for a distraction from her thoughts. "Yes, I'm sure. Kellyanne said you could bring a guest … so unless you have someone else in mind."

"No." Julie wiped her hands on her shorts. "No, I just wanted to make sure. What … what about Dad?"

"What about him?"

"Do you think he'll be okay with it? I mean, should Benjy talk to him first or something?"

Natalie tilted her head in response to her daughter. Since Julie had moved out, she had been on other dates without talking to Adrian. She wondered why this time was different. "Why don't we make some tea and talk in the living room."

"Do you have orange spice?"

Natalie chuckled. "Always. For you." She opened the cupboard to reach for their favorite teacups. Julie had left hers there for mother-daughter talks like these."

Natalie turned to the stove to put the water on, but before she could grab the teapot, the phone rang. Her eyes lit up. "That must be Adrian."

A minute later, she hung up and grabbed hold of the kitchen counter for support. Seeing the color drain from her mother's face, Julie rushed to her side. "Mom? What is it?"

Natalie forced air into her lungs. "That was Dwayne Washington. I have to go to the hospital."

Julie grabbed onto Natalie's shoulders. "Mom?"

Natalie reached for her, the terror in her daughter's eyes mirroring her own. "It's Adrian. He … he's been shot."

Julie led her mother to the table and helped her sit down. She pulled over another chair and took her hands. "Is he okay?"

Natalie felt like she couldn't breathe, like she'd been kicked in the stomach. The pain was unimaginable and yet familiar. "He … he's stable but unconscious. That's all I know."

Julie pushed back her chair. "I'll wake up the kids, so I can drive you there."

Natalie grabbed her hand, fighting every urge she had to run out the door and not stop until she reached her husband's side. "No. Don't wake them. Ask Beth or Molly to come and stay." She tried to swallow against the tightness in her throat. "Come with me, Julie. Please."

Julie nodded. "I'll call, then I'll help you pack."

While Natalie and Julie waited for Beth Evans to arrive, they packed. Julie filled a bag for Natalie, knowing she wouldn't leave Adrian's room once there.

Natalie laid one last shirt in her husband's suitcase and closed it. She tried to fight the ice-cold panic rising within her, but she was losing the battle. Her heart was in her throat, and her stomach felt as if it had been twisted inside out. When the last of her strength ebbed away, she dropped beside the bed, shaking with shock and fear. Pounding her fist against the floor, she sobbed. "Why? He promised to be careful. Why … Oh, Adrian!"

Julie ran to her mother's side and embraced her crumpled form. She pulled her into her arms.

"I knew something was wrong. I … I was trying to be brave and strong and not worry, but I just knew. Oh, Julie, what am I going to do if …"

"Shh. Shh." Julie smoothed Natalie's hair, rocking her as Natalie had done when Julie was a child. "He'll be okay, Mom. You have to believe it. He's going to be okay."

Dwayne Washington was waiting for her when Natalie ran into the trauma center waiting room.

"Where is he?" she asked before reaching his side.

He ran to her, wrapping his arms around her petite frame. "They're working on him, Natalie … sewing up the wounds, checking him out. I … I did everything I could."

Natalie pulled back to look at her friend. Besides being sopping wet, his dark cheeks bore the stain of the tears he had shed. She placed her hand on his broad chest. "Don't do this, Dwayne. I'm sure you did everything humanly possible."

Dwayne nodded and hugged Julie, then led them to a row of chairs in the spartan waiting room. Natalie took Julie's hand. She was shaking too. Together, they silently waited for a word on Adrian's condition. Growing impatient, Natalie began to shift in her seat.

She rubbed her hands together. "What happened out there, Dwayne?" She wasn't sure if she was ready to hear the details, but she had to do something to pass the unbearableness of not knowing how Adrian was doing.

Dwyane wiped his hand over his face, then leaned forward, his arms resting on his legs. He spoke without looking her way. "It was Barlowe."

"One of the narcotics' cops?" Natalie asked.

Dwayne nodded. "He was Ross's partner. Ken Eastman, Gray's partner, started stealing the drugs first, but Barlowe caught him and wanted in. Anyway, Monk figured it out once we knew Barlowe had been a custody officer in Lancaster, the same prison Eddie Gomez served time in. We got an arrest warrant and went to his house. We found the evidence we needed to convict, but it looked like he was going to make a run for it. Thankfully, Monk realized he was coming here first."

"Here?" Julie asked.

Dwayne turned to her. "Yes. He came here to try and kill Eastman, the only man who was an eye-witness to any of the crimes. We stopped him just in time, but he got out, using a nurse as a hostage. The hospital was too crowded to safely stop him. He let her go, and we chased him until he ran into an alley." He paused and swallowed hard.

Natalie squeezed his arm. "Go on."

"It started raining. Barlowe hid behind a car, and the captain, Monk, and I dove behind a dumpster across the alley. He fired into the dumpster, then stopped to reload. The captain asked me to cover while he went out for him." He paused and looked down. "I knew I shouldn't have let him. There … there was thunder and lightning. It all happened so fast. Leland grabbed his chest and went down, then Monk … Monk jumped out to help him. I'm sorry, Natalie. I tried to stop him."

"Is that when he was shot?" Her throat tight and her mouth dry, the question barely made it out in a strangled whisper.

Dwayne nodded. "I tried to stop him."

She cleared her throat and forced strength into her voice. "I know you did, and it's not your fault. Adrian … Adrian can be so stubborn." She wiped away an escaped tear. "When he's determined, no one can stop him."

The trio remained quiet, each composing themselves. Then, Julie stirred. "You said Captain Stottlemeyer fell down. Is he okay?"

Dwayne sat up and shifted. "He's in the ER. They're checking him out."

"The ER?"

"He wasn't shot," Dwayne said. "I think it was his heart."

Natalie put her hand over her mouth. "Oh, Leland! T.K. was worried something like this would happen."

"He walked out of there. I think he'll be all right. The stress, then all that running was just too much." He turned away to stare at the wall. "I just can't believe two of my men, two of my best friends, went down in the same fight. I've replayed it a million times in my head. There has to be something I should have done or maybe something I shouldn't have done. I was angry, Natalie. I don't think I've ever been angrier at a suspect, but Barlowe was one of us. He killed his own partners. For what? A few pounds of drugs? Money? What a crazy, tangled web. I still can't make sense of it."

Natalie touched his arm. "No one can blame you for being angry, Dwayne. We're all angry."

He turned to her. "Yeah, but maybe that's where I messed up. Maybe I was so bent on catching that guy, I wasn't paying enough attention to my own partners." His head dropped. "I'm sorry, Natalie."

Natalie took his hand and found his dark, watery eyes. "Stop saying you're sorry, Dwayne. This isn't your fault. It's no one's fault except for the man who shot my husband, and he'll be dealt with. I know, and Adrian knows, and Leland too, that you were doing your job and doing it well. I also know if there had been any way within your power to stop it, you would have. Do you hear me?"

Dwayne nodded and wiped away a tear. He took a deep breath. "Adrian was so heroic, though. He ran into an alley and hid behind a dumpster of all things." A small smile lifted his lips. "Then, he didn't even care about those bullets. All he cared about was helping his friend. Reminds me of when he jumped on that crazy guy with the bomb last year."

Natalie wiped away another tear as Julie squeezed her hand. "I know. He's always been our hero."

"He wanted me to tell you he loved you, Natalie, you, and the kids." His voice softened. "That's the last thing he said before he passed out."

Natalie wrapped her arm around Julie's shoulders. They waited, their heads resting together until Natalie's patience reached its end. "What's going on in there? When are we going to hear about Adrian?" She stood and paced toward the door and back again, turning to the door once again.

It opened, and a lanky, middle-aged man in surgery scrubs came through with a clipboard in his hands. "Are you Adrian Monk's family?"

"Yes," Natalie said as she walked toward him. "I'm Natalie Monk, his wife." Julie jumped up and joined her mother. "This is our daughter, Julie."

The doctor extended his hand in greeting. "Dr. Nicholas Shriver. I've been with your husband since he came in."

Natalie and Julie wrapped their arms around each other's waists, bracing themselves for the news. "How … how is he?" Natalie asked.

Dr. Shriver crossed his arms in front of himself. "I don't have to tell you, any bullet wound to the chest is serious, but I think your husband was lucky. The projectile entered his thoracic cavity and passed through his right lung, exiting between the ribs. We will perform an x-ray and a CT scan to assess any internal damage we may have missed, but the prognosis is good. We think it was a clean shot, and he had excellent first-aid. Without that, I might be telling you a different story."

Dwayne joined mother and daughter, placing his hands on their shoulders. Natalie squeezed his hand and turned to him. "Thank you, Dwayne."

Dr. Shriver glanced up at the lieutenant. "Good work, detective. Your quick thinking may have saved Mr. Monk's life."

Dwayne looked down and shuffled his feet. "Just doing my job, sir."

Natalie pulled Julie into her arms. They hugged and wiped away tears as the weight of their fear began to lift. "Can we see him?" Natalie asked.

"You can, but he's not conscious yet," the doctor said.

Natalie's smile faded. "Not conscious? Is he in a coma?"

Dr. Shriver nodded. "Despite the detective's best efforts, he lost a lot of blood. We're giving him a second transfusion now. Once he stabilizes, he should come to."

Natalie swallowed hard. "So … so, is there any chance he could get worse?"

"Until his recovery is complete, there's always that chance." The doctor adjusted his glasses. "Having a bullet pass through your body is no small thing. It not only leaves a path of damage in its wake, but it also introduces bacteria from the outside world. Besides the blood transfusions and pain medication, we have also started Mr. Monk on strong antibiotics. But you never know how a body is going to react to that kind of stress until it happens. If his body responds as we expect, he should go home in two or three days, then his lung and external wounds should heal within a couple of weeks. But, as I said, everyone is different. We will keep him under close observation for the next twenty-four hours. Then, we'll know more."

Natalie nodded. "I … I understand. Can we see him now?"

Sharona Disher walked into Leland Stottlemeyer's hospital room in time to see the police captain stand up and reach for his clothes. T.K. rushed to his side and tried to wrestle them away from him.

Sharona put her hands on her hips. "And just where do you think you're going?"

"I have to go see Monk." Leland pulled his pants from his wife's grasp, then reached around his neck to unsnap the top of his hospital gown. "Sharona, if you don't want to see a show, I suggest you turn around."

Sharona rolled her eyes. "You don't have anything I haven't seen, but if you don't get back in that bed, I'm going to call for assistance."

T.K. placed her hand on her husband's arm. "Leland, please. You need to rest."

Leland turned to his wife, his expression pleading. "I have to see him. You know I do."

"Yes, I know." She reached for the pants he still held in his hands. "And you will, but you had a heart attack. You don't need to be walking through this hospital right now."

"A mild heart attack, honey. I'm fine."

Sharona stepped up to the captain and placed her hands on his shoulders. "Come on, Leland. Let's lay back down. A mild heart attack is still a heart attack. You're going to get me in big trouble with my boss if he knows I let you out of here. You don't want that, do you?"

Leland hung his head, then shook it. With a sigh, he dropped to the hospital bed, releasing his pants to his wife. She draped them over the back of a chair, then pulled the sheet and lightweight blanket over her husband as he leaned back onto the bed.

Sharona checked his IV and heart monitor to make sure he hadn't pulled anything loose. "Look, I'm about to go on break. I'll go down to the trauma unit and check on Adrian, then I'll come back and let you know how he's doing. Okay?"

Leland nodded. Sharona turned to go, but Leland grabbed her hand. "Tell … tell Natalie I'm sorry."

Sharona patted his hand, her smile kind. "You don't need to be sorry for anything, but I will tell her you're sending your love, and you will be there as soon as the doctor lets you."

Sharona left, and T.K. sat on the side of her husband's hospital bed. She took his hand in hers. "Leland, you have to stop blaming yourself for Adrian getting hurt."

"You don't understand." Leland, who was staring at the door, turned his head to his wife. "It was my job to protect him. Monk … well, you know how fragile he is. When he started working again, I promised myself I would look out for him. He can't carry a gun, so I put it upon myself to protect him."

T.K. rested her other hand on top of Leland's. "And you've done a great job of it. You couldn't stop him when he bolted out in the alleyway tonight. No one could have. He loves you, and you know how protective he is of the ones he loves. He probably didn't even think of what might happen. All he cared about was helping you."

Leland swallowed hard. "I understand what you're saying, but it's still my fault."

"How, Leland? How is it your fault?"

"Because."

"Because why?"

Leland turned away from his wife's intense gaze. "It could have been prevented. I shouldn't have been there in the first place."

T.K.'s eyes softened. "You shouldn't have been doing your job?"

Leland turned back to his wife and sighed. "I haven't been well for a couple of months now, and you know it. That's why you've been trying to get me to take the promotion, isn't it? You tried to tell me I needed to slow down, but I didn't listen."

T.K. caressed his hand. "Leland…"

"He lifted his other hand. "No. I need to say this. I didn't listen to you. I didn't listen to my doctor. I … I was too proud, and now my best friend is paying the price." He lowered his head. "I've been having symptoms for days, but I ignored them."

"You ignored it because you had a bad guy to catch. Like always, you put your job ahead of personal gain or comfort. You had no way of knowing it would catch up to you in an alleyway with bullets flying." She bent and kissed him. "I love you, Leland Stottlemeyer. I don't blame you one bit for what happened, and I'm willing to bet, neither does Adrian or Natalie."

Natalie and Julie followed Dr. Shriver into the trauma wing of the hospital. Natalie listened to the whirring and beeping of a multitude of machines. Through the sliding glass partitions, she could hear doctors shouting instructions, and a couple walked past them in tears. Natalie breathed out a prayer of thanks. They had gotten lucky that day, or maybe someone was looking out for them.

Adrian had been moved from surgery to an intensive care room within the trauma center, where he would remain until he regained consciousness. The room was designed to hold up to two patients, but the open curtain in the middle of the room revealed that Adrian was alone for now. Natalie looked to the occupied bed and found her husband in the middle of a web of wires and tubes. He had an IV, a breathing apparatus, a heart monitor, and a chest tube. She and Julie both sucked in their breath. He seemed so fragile. His chest had been wrapped with layers of sterile gauze, holding the tube in place, and protecting his stitches. His cappuccino complexion was dull and ashy, and his cheeks seemed hollow, evidence of the ordeal his body had endured.

Natalie tore herself from her husband to look back at the doctor. "How … how long do you think it will be until he regains consciousness?"

"It could be a few hours. It could be as much as twelve or even twenty-four hours. It's up to him, really, and how much of this deep sleep his body needs to recover." He looked at his watch. "I'm going to allow visitors to see Mr. Monk for one more hour. Then, we need to let him rest."

Natalie frowned and her eyes narrowed. "I'm not leaving my husband, doctor. He didn't leave my side when I was in this hospital, and I won't be leaving his now."

Dr. Shriver ran his hand through his mop of salt and pepper hair and sighed. "Okay, you may stay, but only you." He looked to Julie. "I'm sorry, young lady."

Julie nodded. "I understand."

She and her mother pulled up chairs next to Adrian's bed, and Natalie took Adrian's hand. "We're here, love, Julie and me." She wiped at her eyes and Julie found a box of tissues and handed her one. "The doctor says you got lucky. I don't know if it was that or you had a guardian angel with you, but either way, I'm so thankful. Now, I told the doctor I'm not going anywhere. I'll be here whenever you wake up, babe. There's no rush because you … you need to heal, but I'll be here." Natalie could no longer fight the tightening lump in her throat and the stinging heat in her eyes.

Natalie's tears fell as Julie pulled her chair closer and wrapped her arms around her mother. They stayed that way until visiting hours closed and Julie had to leave.