She was almost asleep when the limo delivered her to her doorstep; six minutes more and her head hit the pillow in her bedroom. In vain did the tortoiseshell cat grumble for his food. Daddy’s little rich girl slept, but that didn’t mean the cat would have long to wait. Not much time passed before Francesca was awake again, screaming in terror. It was the same nightmare and it always woke her at the same place, just as the last scalpel had been cleaned and was being put back in the case.