He looked at the chaos in the hallway, his eyes locking onto mine.

“Hannah,” he said, taking a step toward me.

My father saw him and stopped dead in his tracks.

The air in the corridor seemed to freeze.

“Ethan,” my father said, his voice dropping to a deadly whisper.

Ethan raised his hands in defense, taking a step back toward the elevator.

“I didn’t want this,” Ethan said, his voice cracking. “She said she was just taking him to a safe place.”

“Where is she?” I screamed, my voice echoing off the sterile walls.

Ethan looked down at the floor, his shoulders slumping.

“She has a plane waiting,” he whispered.

My father took a long, menacing step toward him.

Ethan reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, folded piece of paper.

“She told me to give you this,” he said, holding it out with a trembling hand.

My father snatched the paper from his grip and tore it open.

I watched his face as he read it, the color draining from his cheeks.

“What is it, Dad?” I asked, my voice barely audible.