He didn’t answer immediately. He just stared at the page.

Then, he looked up at me, his eyes filled with a sudden, terrible realization.

“Hannah,” he said, his voice shaking for the first time.

“We have to go.”

He grabbed my arm, ignoring the nurse’s protests, and pulled me toward the service stairs.

Behind us, the elevator doors began to close on Ethan, who stood frozen inside.

The alarm continued to wail, a relentless, deafening scream in the background.

I didn’t know where we were going, but the look on my father’s face told me everything.

The nightmare was far from over.

We took the stairs two at a time, my hospital gown fluttering around my legs.

The cold concrete of the stairwell sent a chill through my bare feet.

My father’s grip on my arm was tight, keeping me upright.

“What did the note say?” I demanded as we reached the ground floor.

He pushed open the heavy exit door, leading us out into the cold afternoon air.

The gray sky was heavy with the promise of rain.