nurse had noticed the warning signs early and insisted they be addressed.”
His eyes returned to me.
“That nurse was Jenna.”
Silence settled over the room.
I felt heat rise behind my eyes.
“Mr.
Montgomery, I was doing my job.
The entire team—”
“And you did it extraordinarily well,” he interrupted gently.
“Please don’t minimize that for my sake.”
He turned to Nathan.
“You remember when I told you about the nurse who stayed beside me?”
Nathan nodded slowly.
“The one you wanted to thank.”
“Yes.”
Silas looked toward Felicity.
“And tonight I’ve listened to someone make that profession sound insignificant.”
Felicity’s smile had vanished.
She glanced toward Nathan, clearly expecting him to intervene.
He didn’t.
Silas continued.
“After I recovered, I contacted the hospital.
I wanted Jenna to know how grateful I was.
I also asked whether she would be willing to speak with me about creating a scholarship in memory of her mother.”
My stomach dropped.
“My mother?”
Silas nodded.
“You told me about her while I was in the trauma bay.
You said she was the reason you became a nurse.
I never forgot it.”
I pressed my fingers against the silver brooch.
He looked at it again.
“You were wearing that the night I met you.”
Suddenly I remembered.
I’d pinned it to my scrub jacket that evening because I wanted something of hers close to me on the anniversary of her death.
Silas had asked what it meant while we waited for the physician.
I’d told him.
He had survived the surgery, and by the time I returned for another shift, he’d been transferred out of the emergency department.
I hadn’t known his full name.
The details of his later care were private, and I hadn’t tried to track him down.
For three years, I simply hoped he’d recovered.
“I sent a letter through the hospital,” Silas explained.
“They forwarded it to you.
I also received a very thoughtful reply explaining that you weren’t interested in public recognition.
I respected that, although I hoped someday we might meet.”
My pulse quickened.
“I never sent a reply.”
Silas stopped.
“What?”
“I received your letter,” I said.
“But there wasn’t any request for a meeting in it.
It was a thank-you note.
I kept it.
I didn’t answer because I assumed you wanted to move on with your life.”
He stared at me.
“There was a second letter.
And an invitation to meet with my family’s foundation.”
I shook my head.
“I never received either one.”
At the head table, Nathan looked toward his bride.
Felicity had gone noticeably pale.
Silas unfolded another sheet of paper.
“When the hospital couldn’t provide personal contact details, my office later reached out through the family contact we’d been given.
Six weeks ago, during wedding planning, I learned that my son was marrying someone whose stepsister had the same name and worked at the same hospital.”
He paused.
“I asked whether we could arrange a private dinner after the wedding.”
Felicity lowered her eyes.
“And what happened?” Nathan asked.
Silas looked at him.
“I received an email saying Jenna was emotionally unstable, that contact could aggravate her condition, and that the family wanted me to respect her privacy.”
Every muscle in my body stiffened.
It was the same story Diane had
