The Doctor She Married

Four years ago I buried my husband in a closed-casket service in Moscow and flew to Ohio with a new name. I became Dr. Lina Petrova. I saved strangers for a living and never once let a man close enough to touch the scar. Then one of my trauma bays opened at 3 a.m. and a patient whispered my real surname above the sound of his own blood. Lev Agapov. Alive. In my city. The Bratva's American front man, wired up in a federal case that has my name in it. The Bureau wants me to testify. Lev wants me to run. I want to finish what I started, keep my license, and forget the last four years ever happened. Neither of us gets what we want. So we're doing what we always did. We're making room for each other in a house that has no room, and I am not sure whether I am saving his life or he is saving mine.