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and the young doctor stopped her and said, 'Thank you for helping me out. You were terrific.'
    Sarah didn't feel that way. She had worked on sheer instinct and necessity, and it wasn't over yet. Ryan's life was still in the balance, and she wasn't sure that she had done everything that she could for him. Part of her had been resenting the fact that he was keeping her from going to her sister. All the time that she had been working with Ryan she had been fearful for Hannah. What was happening to her? Why wasn't she able to do anything for her sister?
    She went to find out where Hannah had been taken, and discovered that Mark was at her bedside.
    'He took over your sister's care,' the nurse told her. 'He's been with her for the last half-hour.'
    Sarah was glad of that. More than anyone, she trusted Mark to do what was right for her sister.
    He turned as she walked into the room. 'I've been monitoring her condition,' he said. 'I'm afraid she's in no shape to talk. We want to keep her as quiet and calm as we can, so she's been given medication. Your father's on his way.'
    Sarah nodded acknowledgement and stared down at Hannah. She was being given oxygen via a tube in her throat and she was hooked up to an ECG machine. Monitors were bleeping, but her sister was very still, her eyes closed.
    'How bad is it?' Sarah asked.
    'She'll need surgery,' he said quietly. 'There's a spinal injury and we're uncertain yet whether we need to remove bone fragments or stabilise fractured vertebrae.'
    'Is she going to walk again? Is her spinal cord intact?' She was shaking and hardly dared voice her anxieties, but she needed to know.
    'I don't know the answer to that yet,' Mark said. His eyes were dark with sympathy, filled with compassion, and Sarah wanted to weep. How could this be happening to her bright, beautiful sister?
    'What did the MRI show?' She paused, holding on to the metal bed head for support. 'You did do an MRI?'
    'Yes, I did. It's hard to assess the level of damage at this stage. There's so much swelling and fluid accumulation. I've done a neurological examination, but that, too, is difficult to interpret. If the cord is intact, it may be that she'll recover some of her reflexes after the swelling has subsided.'
    'What happens now?'
    'I'm giving her steroid therapy, because that can help to improve function if it's given early on. In the meantime, we're waiting for the surgeon to come and take her up to Theatre.' He looked at her steadily. 'I'm so sorry, Sarah.'
    His sympathy was her undoing. Her lips trembled and he hesitated for a fraction of a second and then came and put his arms around her, holding her close. She buried her cheek against his shoulder and sobbed into his shirt. He held her and comforted her, stroking his hand along her back, and she cried and wished that she would wake up and find that all this was just a bad dream.
    It was only some time later when she realised that it had perhaps not been the most sensible thing to do, to allow herself to be comforted this way. Mark was her boss after all and, much as she might crave his support, she needed to learn to deal with her problems on her own. He wasn't going to be around to help her over every stumbling block, and showing him her vulnerable side had probably been unwise. He already had misgivings about her capabilities as a doctor. Wasn't she just giving him more ammunition to fire at her in the future?
    She straightened up and carefully eased herself away from him. 'I'll be all right now,' she said huskily. 'I'm sorry if I've made a mess of your shirt.'
    The fabric was damp with her tears, and he looked down at it and gave a slight shrug. 'Don't worry about it.' He looked uncomfortable, guarded, as though he, too, realised that their embrace had been a step too far.
    He moved away from her, putting a little distance between them. 'I think you should go and talk to your father. He's in the waiting room.' He signalled a nurse to come and lead her away, and Sarah