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She giggles and flashes her high beams over the Pacific Coast Highway. “Open the present.”

With my heart lodged firmly in my throat, I pry open the box. Swallowing my gasp, I pull out a pristine camera.

My dream camera.

“Happy eighteenth! Take a picture of me. It’s loaded with film.”

A car honks and reality rushes in. I scream when she swerves to avoid a collision.

“Wooohoo! Lighten up. Don’t be the boring one for once. Embrace your fears!” Mia pumps her fist into the air. “Capture this moment, Olive. Carpe diem!”

Seize the day, my ass. Survive this night is more apt.

“You’re nuts.” But I aim my brand new Leica M6 camera at her and take a shot. The crisp snap of the shutter is the most beautiful sound to my ears, even with the wind blowing in my face.

Time stood still then, and I’ll forever remember Mia that way—raven hair covering her face, a devious glint in her eyes, her sharp laughter slicing through the dark night.

Wild and brave. Happy and alive.

I clear my throat and force out a smile before glancing at my phone. Nine p.m. sharp.

“Session’s over. Now I can call you Maxwell.”

I brush past Ryland and step into the hallway.

“May I call you a car, Olivia?” Ryland asks.

“No, I’m fine. I’m heading to the Ladies’ Lounge to meet with a friend.”

Liar.I barely have time for my close friends, who happen to be his younger sisters Lana, Grace, and Taylor, and by extension, their best friends, Belle, Millie, and Alexis. I could probably even call the Anderson brothers—Maxwell, Ryland, Ethan—my friends.

There’s one more brother—Rex—but I won’t think about him. We’re definitely not friends.

Either way, I’m married to my work, and patient case files and medical research papers are my confidants.

And in precisely forty-five minutes, I’ll be in my usual spot, curled up safely under the covers in my Upper West Side studio apartment, wearing a face mask, a glass of Petit Syrah and a plate of Mom’s almond cookies that taste like cardboard on the nightstand. I’ll reread the session notes from my appointments today and prepare a new pitch for investors to fund the Anxiety and Depression Awareness Society, otherwise known as ADAS, for the next year.

The organization does important work—education, outreach, providing mental health help to people without access. My lungs constrict when I think about the email I got earlier today. Ourbiggest investor pulled out, citing financial difficulties. But it doesn’t matter, I’ll just work harder to get the money somewhere else.

I’ll heal them all, one patient at a time.

It doesn’t have to be this way. It’s not your responsibility to save everyone, and are you really living?My chest hardens and I shake the thought away. Sure, it’s lonely and tiring, but someone’s got to do the work.

Yes.Working is more meaningful than going out and wasting life. It’s what’s expected of me—the good doctor, the perfect daughter. I’m happy. I should be happy. I nod to myself.That’s right.

But the tightness doesn’t go away.

“If you need a car later, just tell the concierge,” Maxwell says as he walks to my side.

He levels his unnerving gaze at me. “You sure everything’s okay, Olivia?”

“Playing doctor on the doctor, Maxwell?” I strain my smile wider, knowing I’m failing. Mia could lie without batting an eyelash. Not me.

Maxwell frowns, and soon Ryland’s brows form a concerned pinch.

They look so similar now, even though they aren’t identical twins.

Not like me and Mia. A dull ache throbs to life behind my rib cage.