She looked genuinely surprised—it was Sandy Turner.
It had been days since Whitney last saw her.
“Whitney!”
Sandy rushed over, still in her work overalls and a thin trench coat thrown on against the early fall chill.
She spotted Whitney sitting by herself on the hard plastic bench outside the operating room, her eyes rimmed red and looking far more fragile than usual.
“What are you doing here?” Whitney stood up, forcing a small smile.
“Whitney, how’s Ludwik doing?”
Sandy reached out, squeezing her hand gently.
Whitney followed Sandy’s gaze to the swinging doors, eyelashes lowering. “He took two bullets. They’re still working on him inside.”
“God, Whit—I’m so sorry. I only just got home and heard about everything. I can’t believe Florence could be so twisted! She actually went all the way to Germinia and impersonated your birth mom, putting your family through hell. And she’s pregnant, too, but the baby’s—”
Sandy had run into Shane earlier, who’d filled her in, albeit in a rush.
She was still reeling from the shock.
Whitney, seeing her sister’s guilt, remembered—wasn’t Sandy sent away on business by the Sheldon Group a couple months back? At the time, Hudson had just clawed his way back to the top, and the out-of-state branches were shaky. Sandy was reliable, and Whitney had wanted her to get some real-world experience before taking on a bigger role.
Whitney managed a tired laugh, patting Sandy’s arm. “Let’s not go over all that. It’s settled. Florence has been arrested. She’s on her way to prison.”
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