1Chapter 2

Dr. Sara Tancredi lay motionless in the front seat of her Mercedes, alone in her own abyssmal being. She lay her head on the steering wheel, letting her long hair drape over the sides of her shoulders and tear soaked face. There she sat, dazed, alone, and sobbing out the sorrows she'd held for the last month, since he'd left this place for his brother and God knows what else. Her emptiness poured out through her eyes, and she felt everything she'd been numb to times a thousand. And now, here he was... where was he now, what was he doing? Had he come back to apologize and beg for forgiveness or to laugh in her face? She could make an educated guess, except her guess wouldn't matter more than anyone else's; each time she thought she knew him some other facet of him popped up and surprised her.

The longer she lay there, the more timeless the world around her seemed. She had no idea how long she'd been sitting hunched over, reeling in the mere mention of the name Michael in her mind. Maybe minutes, maybe hours, days, years passed and still she sat there. No movement, no thoughts, no feelings other than loneliness and need.

Gradually, Sara pulled herself together until she was no longer red-eyed and looked somewhat presentable. She made her way back to the infirmary, glancing toward the first clock she saw, and noted that she'd only been gone fifteen minutes. This did not surprise her; over the past month time had slowed for her, making her believe at times that it was not passing at all. She walked passed guards and through security, down the medical corridor. Deep black pupils stared into her soul from every angle, prying, wanting information that not even she knew.

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The clocked shone 10:35 PM in bold green text on her bedside table.

Sara found herself alone in her apartment, debating with her conscience over the meeting. She'd gotten dressed and done her hair and makeup three times already, unable to decide on her presentation. She stood half naked in front of her floor-length mirror, staring at her reflection; she'd decided on wearing her hair down because Michael always seemed to be mesmerized by it, and she wanted to give him as much grief as possible for giving her away to the cruel, heartless world she faced without him. She chose a simple black v-neck long-sleeved tshirt and a flowing green knee length skirt- casual enough, she figured, but not thrown together.

As Sara gazed into the mirror, she found herself lost in a world of Him. She remembered one of her favorite conversations with him, while they were doing the Times crossword one rainy Sunday.

"Hey Doc, what's a 9-letter word for a photosynthetical sanctuary?"

"Michael, pay attention to the insulin wound, I told you to apply direct pressure! You and that damn puzzle."

"But Sara, I like crosswords, they give me a chance to concentrate so my brain doesn't rot away. You and the Times crossword are the only intelligent conversation for miles."

Chills ran down her spine as he said her name. She laughed, and he smiled his amazing smile that threatened to take her breath away every time.

"Treehouse," she said.

"What?" Michael smirked, confused.

"A photosynthetical sanctuary. A treehouse, you know, like the one in Greco Park."

His blue green eyes darted up quickly to meet hers, and they stared into each other. He tore his eyes away nervously, not wanting to make her uncomfortable. "I love Greco Park."

A police car drove by, siren wailing, breaking her concentration. She glanced to her left, to the menacing neon green numbers at her bedside- 10:55. She debated more, psyching herself up for an event she knew would have to either change her attitude or change her life. A surge of strength, confidence, and anger rushed through her body as she mentally prepared herself for what was to come. Within seconds, she found herself again in the front seat of her Mercedes, keys in the ignition, foot on the gas, speeding toward what she was sure would turn out to be a colossal mistake.

After all, she didn't want to keep him waiting.

A short time later, Sara pulled onto Fleur Boulevard. If she remembered correctly, the street she was looking for would be coming soon. The nerves in her stomach were threatening to expel themselves if she didn't calm them soon; her knuckles were white as she grasped the cold leather steering wheel as if it were the last thing to hold onto on Earth. This is your decision, Sara, she reminded herself. You can turn your back at any time.

She didn't turn her back though, she kept driving until she reached the sign for Greco Avenue. Sara knew this would be the last street sign she saw as the woman she was at this moment; in the distance she could see the ten foot tall sign noting the main entrance to Greco Park. Without even so much as a fleeting thought, she clicked her signal on to turn right, and drove directly into a night that, one way or another, she knew she would never forget.