“Pamela,” he said warmly, taking my hand in both of his. “I’ve been wondering how the surgery went. Cleveland General has an excellent team, but I’ve been concerned.”

The genuine care in his voice nearly undid me after the coldness from my own family. To my horror, I felt tears threatening. Blinking them back, I summoned a smile. “It went as well as could be expected. I’m still here, aren’t I?”

His eyes narrowed slightly, seeing more than I wanted him to. “Yes, you are—and I’m very glad of that fact.”

He turned to Samuel. “Please handle Mrs. Hayes’s luggage carefully. She’s still recovering.”

As Samuel took my small suitcase, Harrison offered his arm for support. The gesture was so unexpected, so courteously old‑fashioned, that I hesitated before placing my hand in the crook of his elbow.

“I don’t want to be a burden,” I murmured as he guided me toward the Bentley.