That evening, after a bowl of thin gruel and cup of beef tea, Una pleaded with Nurse Cuddy to allow her a short stroll on the lawn, insisting a little fresh air would be good for her lungs. At last, Nurse Cuddy conceded. She wrapped a heavy blanket around Una’s shoulders and helped her downstairs. Spring had returned in full force after the week’s earlier snow. The lawn was green and fragrant with new blooms.

“I’ll be back to fetch you in half an hour,” Nurse Cuddy said, after seating Una on a bench. “Mind that you don’t overtire yourself.”

Una nodded, but as soon as Nurse Cuddy had vanished within the hospital, she quit the bench and snuck into the nearby Sturges Pavilion.

Dru’s bed remained apart from the others at the far end of the ward. But instead of lying down, tossing and moaning in a feverish sleep, Dru sat propped against a stack of pillows, sipping a bowl of broth. She looked thin and frail, but her cheeks had regained their rosy glow.

Una hesitated before making her way across the ward. Would Dru forgive her for being such a rotten friend? Maybe she wouldn’t remember Mr. Knauff and all that had happened the day she fell ill. Maybe they could go on as if it never happened.

She stopped at the table in the middle of the ward, leaning against it as she caught her breath. Her throat still burned with each shallow draw of air. She watched Dru take another sip of broth and screwed her resolve. To pretend nothing had happened was tantamount to a lie. And Una was done lying.

Dru spotted Una as she neared the bed. Her eyes widened and lips wobbled before settling into a frown. “Good heavens, Una! What happened to you?”

Una had forgotten how dreadful she looked—throat bruised and eyes bloodshot. She pulled the blanket snuggly around herself and sat down on the edge of Dru’s bed. “You should see the other fellow.”

Dru didn’t laugh but continued to stare at her in confusion. “But you’re all right, aren’t you?”

“Never mind about me. I’m fine. You’re the one who’s been sick. Really, I ought to let you rest and come back another time. I’m just glad you’re on the mend. I’ve been so worried. Truly, and I only wanted to say—” Una stopped. She was rambling like a fool.

Dru reached out and grabbed her hand. “Go on.”

“It’s just . . . I’m terribly sorry, Dru. For everything. Involving you in the search for Deidre’s murderer. Ratting you out to Miss Perkins when Mr. Knauff’s death wasn’t even your fault. Caring only for myself when here you were falling ill to typhus.”

Una waited for Dru to let go of her hand and shrink away. To turn up her chin and insist that Una leave. But she didn’t.

“There’s more. I haven’t been straight with you from the start . . .”

Una told her everything. Her voice grew more hoarse and her throat sore. But she continued, staring down at the floor as she spoke, afraid of what she might see in Dru’s expression.

Silence greeted her when she finished, and, for once, Una wished Dru would say something. Anything. She dared a glance up. Instead of revulsion, she found kindness in Dru’s eyes.

“Oh, Una,” she said at last. “No wonder you’re so brave.”

Brave? That’s how Dru saw her? After everything she’d told her? Not selfish or scheming but brave?

Dru squeezed her hand and rested her head back against the pillows. Her eyelids fluttered shut and were slow to open. Una knew she ought to leave Dru to rest. Miss Cuddy would be coming for her soon, anyway. Best she get back to the lawn. She squeezed Dru’s hand in return and stood.

“I’m sure Mrs. Buchanan could find you another roommate,” she said. “That is, if you want.”

“Don’t be a goose, Una. But you best be ready. We’re weeks behind in our study. We never finished reading about the alimentary system or the respiratory system . . .” She prattled on like her old self for a full minute longer before falling asleep. Una pulled Dru’s blanket up to her chin, then hurried best she could—her gait was still a bit unsteady—back to the lawn.

She sat down on the bench and stared out at the river. The waning sunlight played on the water, bathing the sails of the passing schooners in an orange glow.

“Mind if I join you?” a voice said from behind her.

Una turned and saw Edwin. She thought of their last bitter parting, and that stabbing pain in her chest revived. He sat down on the edge of the bench before she could reply. His eyes lingered on her neck.

“Good God, Una, you look worse now than you did last night.” “You were here when they brought me in?”

He cocked his head. “You don’t remember? I was the one who found you.”

She thought back to the night before, the tourniquet biting into her neck, Conor’s weight heavy atop her, the banging noise that reverberated through the floorboards. She shivered. “You were there? At the lodging house?”

“I was about to head home last night when I saw Mr. McCready leave with the ambulance. There hadn’t been any gong or call for the surgeon, but I didn’t think much of it until I remembered what you’d said. I flagged down a cab and followed him.”

Una remembered the hansom cab she’d seen trailing them. “I thought you didn’t believe me.”

“I didn’t. At least I thought I didn’t. But I wanted to be sure. When I got to where the ambulance was parked, I didn’t notice anything suspicious and assumed Conor had gone into the saloon for a drink. I was about to leave when I saw you in the third-floor window. Then Conor came around a moment later and closed the curtain. I knew something was wrong. I would have gotten to you sooner, but that damned lodge keeper wouldn’t tell me what room you were in. I tried every one until I found you.” He swiveled around on the bench to face her. “Thank God you’d managed to sedate him. Any tighter and that tourniquet would have killed you.” He reached out as if to touch her, then let his hand fall back to his side. “None of this would have happened if I’d believed you from the start.”

She’d given him good reason not to with all her lies. But that didn’t mean she was ready to forgive him.

They sat a moment in silence, then Una turned her gaze back to the lawn. The shadow cast by the hospital had lengthened, stretching to the dock. A large, dark bird with a spray of white tail feathers swooped down over the water.

“Is that an eagle?” she asked, watching it skim the glassy surface before coming away with a writhing fish.

“Looks like it. It’s about the time of year they start rebuilding their nests.” He sat forward, resting his forearms on his legs, and turned his head sheepishly to look at her. “We could meet at Central Park Sunday and find out.”

“Edwin, don’t. We can’t pretend like the past didn’t happen. I’m not the woman you thought you fell in love with.”

“Maybe not. But I’d like to get to know the woman you really are.” “That’s not how you felt in the operating theater. You could hardly bear

to look at me, let alone help me.” Her gaze drifted upward from the river to the darkening sky. “I haven’t changed.”

“But I have. I was angry that you lied to me, yes. Embarrassed that I’d been played the fool.”

“I never meant—”

“I know. And once I got past my bruised ego, I realized that I’d lied to you too. I told you to trust me, begged you to trust me, and when you finally did, I betrayed that trust.” He sat up and ran a hand through his hair. “If you give me another chance, let’s start fresh. I promise I won’t betray you again.”

Una glanced at him from the corner of her eye, still unsure. But he wasn’t asking for promises or declarations. He was asking for a second chance. “You haven’t forgotten that I’m a thief?”

“Former thief.”

“And that I don’t come from a privileged background.”

“I haven’t forgotten, and I don’t care.”

“Your family will.”

“I don’t care if they care. An old friend advised me to be my own man. I think I’ll take her advice.”

“Miss Perkins mentioned I might be able to rejoin the training school. Socializing with gentlemen, you’ll remember, is strictly forbidden.”

He flashed her a mischievous smile. “I won’t tell a soul. Besides, I know a few storerooms and a rather jolting elevator where we can be alone.”

Una shook her head and laughed, wincing at the still-raw pain in her throat. “Don’t joke. It hurts to laugh.”

Edwin reached out again and boldly took her hand. Her skin tingled at his touch.

“I’m entirely serious.” His thumb caressed the top of her hand. “A new beginning, then?”

Una’s gaze swept along the northeast wing of the hospital, taking in the river and the twinkling stars overhead. She never would have imagined herself working at a place like Bellevue, helping people instead of fleecing them, letting them into her heart instead of going it alone. It defied all her rules. But maybe it was time to make new ones.

She nodded at Edwin and intertwined her fingers with his. “Yes, a new beginning.”