Choi Sooyoung shuddered in the warm air as an eerily intent gaze crawled up the back of her neck. Again.

 

She sent a wary glance behind her, and smiled tightly. Twit. Of course she was being watched. Two hundred people were assembled on the grass beside the hospital. The administrator introduced her, and applause crested. She resisted wiping damp palms on her red silk sheath. Don't screw up. Her stomach jittered as she walked toward the podium. Don't barf. She ascended the stairs. Don't fall on your and give your coworkers more ammo for jokes.

 

Public speaking…argh. About as much fun as her annual pelvic exam.

 

"G-good morning." Staring at reporters, news cameras, the sea of faces, she stumbled over the greeting. Then her attention focused on her father, sitting in the front row. Sooyoung locked wobbly knees. She'd macarena through the hospital before she'd fail in front of the iron-willed trauma surgeon. "I'm Choi Sooyoung, head child life specialist here at Chung Ang Hospital." She cleared . "On behalf of my late grandfather, Senator Choi Hyo Sang, thank you for attending the ground-breaking for our new pediatric wing." Her voice evened, Dr. Choi Jungnam approved.

 

Sooyoung's glance swept over friends, neighbors and coworkers, then lingered on the empty chair in front. The now-ragged Reserved card fluttered forlornly in the breeze.

 

Did you really think Changmin would come?

 

Her heart fisted. But she'd also thought he'd be there when she'd stood shivering in the bitter wind beside her granddad's coffin. Not her first, or even her second, mistake where he was concerned. And because the word surrender wasn't in her vocabulary, also not her last.

 

But today wasn't about what she wanted…at least in her private life. She was here for Granddad and needy children. She gripped the podium. "I was a very…strong-willed child." She glanced at her father, his head tipped in rueful acknowledgment. "Nothing frightened me. My adventures scared off four nannies and caused my share of childhood injuries. I broke my wrist when I was eight. At ten, I had to have an appendectomy. There was no time to prepare, and the fear was overwhelming. I've always wanted to work with children, but didn't want to make life-or-death decisions as a physician. And I didn't want to be an evil needle-wielding nurse." That earned hearty chuckles from her coworkers and a hard stare from her father. Yeah, as a kick- trauma surgeon, he considered empathy a weakness. But it was her greatest strength.

 

"Which is why I became a child life specialist. We're certified professionals trained to ease children's anxiety during medical situations." Sooyoung adjusted the microphone. "A child's illness disrupts the family structure. Our programs alleviate that stress and help everyone cope."

 

Warmed to her crusade, she smiled at the rapt crowd. "We're go-betweens for overwhelmed parents who don't know the right questions to ask and busy medical staff who sometimes forget to speak 'civilian.'" She arched a brow at her father, and received his stern "doctor face." He still attempted to intimidate her into obedience the way he did his staff. As if.

 

The audience chuckled again. Whew! "We also initiate therapeutic activities to help relieve a child's suffering. When the time comes for treatment or surgery we've prepared both the child and the family. Easing a child's terror makes their treatments not only more bearable but more medically effective."

 

Her work meant everything to her, and her department's funding depended on her pitch. "My grandfather, Choi Hyo Sang, devoted his life to children's causes, and his estate was bequeathed to build the new pediatric wing. I urge each of you to consider a personal donation. A pledge to Child Life Services supports children and their families during traumatic times."

 

Sooyoung concluded with a video of her kids engaged in program activities and updates on their progress. Then she introduced families who offered heartwarming testimonies.

 

By the time the first symbolic shovel was into the ground and cake and punch were served, she was giddy at the stream of envelopes being dropped into well-guarded strongboxes.

 

A wide smile—her emotional cloaking device—held steady. But she couldn't help searching for the one face she knew she wouldn't see. The bitter awareness of being utterly alone in the crowd hollowed her insides. She shook it off. Stop being a wuss! She'd learned long ago to bury the pain, to throw her all into her job and ignore the inner restlessness, the yearning ache.

 

Sooyoung said her goodbyes and strode into the depths of the parking garage to fetch her black Miata convertible. Surreptitious footsteps whispered behind her and she spun, seeing nothing but cars. "Hello? Who's there?"

 

Enveloped in uneasy silence, she was again assaulted by the skin-crawling sensation of being closely observed. Her stare probed dark corners as she scrambled inside the car and hit the lock. She'd experienced jitters since her granddad had died two months ago. And recently someone had searched her apartment