He made her pay for the sarcasm she wouldn’t keep in check by taking the conversation to a place she didn't want to go. “How’s your hip holding up?”

“Fine.”

Constant discomfort was a reminder of how she’d failed to do her duty. She attached the bag with a ferocious sequence of hits that rocked it toward Russell. He bared his teeth in a smile that harbored devastating understanding.

Not wanting his pity, she clenched her jaw tight enough to ache along with her hip. All she wanted from the Doc was for him to hand her life back in one piece.

“Tell me about Sister Mary Margaret.”

Her growl was surly, even to her own ears. “What does she have to do with anything?”

“If you want to go back to work-” His implication was clear. Jane chomped on her gum. She’d gnawed every bit of nicotine out of it, and wished she’d brought more down with her. Dancing another step around the bag, the force of her next strike reverberated up her arm, settling her as nothing else had so far.

“There’s not much to tell.”

“Tell me about the orphanage then. Do you ever go back?”

“There’s nothing to go back for.” Except Sister Mary Margaret. The one person who’d believed in her.

It’d been too long since Jane had last seen the nun, but she hadn’t wanted the lady who’d had such a huge impact on her life to see how far down the rabbit hole she’d fallen.

She stepped back and taking several deep breaths, planted her gloved hands on her hips.